“Here’s what I want,” I finally said. “Full apology. Written and in person. Restitution for all medical costs—the X-rays, the extended recovery, the additional physical therapy. Five thousand dollar fine split between them, donated to the hospital’s disability services fund. And both of them complete fifty hours of community service at a rehabilitation center.”
David exhaled. “And the assault charge?”
“Dropped to simple assault. State charges, not federal. Probation, not prison. But it stays on their record.”
“That’s… fair. More than fair.”
“And one more thing. That video they took? They post a public apology video. Explaining what they did and why it was wrong. Same platform they were going to post the ‘Karen’ video on.”
“Done. Thank you, Rachel.”
“I’m not doing this for them. I’m doing it because federal prison is expensive and overcrowded. But if they violate any part of this agreement, I will prosecute to the fullest extent.”
“Understood.”
Three days later, Connor and Blake showed up at my apartment.
Both looked like they hadn’t slept.
“Ms. Martinez,” Connor began. “We’re here to apologize.”
“Come in.”
They sat on my couch. I stayed in my recliner, leg elevated.