Chapter 4

They found Denise's daughter eventually. When they got to her, she was curled up in a corner. She had four broken ribs, a torn left ear, and not an inch of unbruised skin on her body.

She'd been unconscious for two days. The doctors said that if it had been another day, she probably wouldn't have made it.

When the news broke, the internet lost its mind.

"If Quinn Avery had sent officers that day, she wouldn't have suffered like this!"

"This is basically murder!"

"Quinn Avery belongs in prison!"

Four of the top ten trending stories involved me. Someone leaked my home address online. Another person appeared outside the precinct with a banner that read, "Quinn Avery Has No Place on the Force."

My phone rang with over a hundred hate calls a day, and the texts were beyond counting.

"Why don't you just die, you piece of trash?"

"Your sister deserved what she got, and so do you."

"I'm coming to your front door. Just wait."

Doug fielded a few of the calls for me, and even he looked shaken. "Quinn, this has gotten way out of hand."

Kevin had stopped talking to me altogether. Everyone in the office went out of their way to avoid me.

Captain Garrett called me in and handed me a piece of paper. "You're suspended indefinitely."

I didn't take it. "I already submitted my own request."

He stared at me. "What are you trying to do?"

I folded my copy of the administrative leave request and slipped it into my pocket. "I've thought it through. There's an overdue debt, and it's time to settle it."

When I walked out the front door of the precinct, seven or eight bloggers were crouching outside with their phones up.

"Quinn Avery's coming out!"

"Quinn! What do you have to say to the victim?"

"Is it true that you've been suspended?"

I stopped and looked into the cameras. Then I smiled.

"Tomorrow at 10:00 am, on the state news live broadcast. I'll explain everything."

I walked away. Behind me, the crowd erupted.

The next morning at 9:30, I was in the state news studio. Three million people were watching live.

The anchor's voice was crisp and professional. "Today we're joined by former detective Quinn Avery, who was suspended from the force over what's become known as the 24-hour rule incident. Officer Avery, is there anything you'd like to say?"

The camera was fixed on me. The live chat had already devolved into chaos.

"Make her apologize!"

"Lock her up! Lock her up!"

"I got here early just to watch this monster go down!"

I sat in my chair with a brown envelope on the table in front of me.

"Before I talk about myself," I began, "I want to ask everyone a question.

"32 years ago, there was a nine-year-old girl whose sister was thrown into a van and taken away. The girl chased the van for three blocks, memorized its license plate, and ran to the police station to report what happened."

My voice was steady as I continued, "The deputy chief officer on duty was leaning back in his chair, eating a bag of chips. He told the girl that it was a domestic affair and to come back after 24 hours. The young girl got on her knees and begged him, but he swept the crumbs off his hands into her face and said, 'Make another scene, and I'll lock you up.'

"Three days later, her sister's body was found in a ditch by the highway. She'd jumped from the vehicle and been dragged. Her skull was shattered. She'd been sexually assaulted multiple times before she died."

The live chat slowed down.

"That deputy chief officer was later promoted to station chief, and eventually became deputy chief of the city department. He retired with full honors. No one ever asked him why he didn't send officers that day."

"That young girl," I said, looking directly into the camera, "was me."

The studio went silent.