“We’re sorry,” Blake said. “What we did was cruel and stupid. We thought it would be funny. We never considered that you were actually disabled or in pain.”
“Or that I had the power to destroy your futures,” I added.
“That too,” Connor admitted. “But my dad said you showed us mercy. When you didn’t have to.”
“I showed you justice. There’s a difference.”
Blake pulled out a check. “This is for the medical costs. Five thousand from each of us. And we already donated to the disability fund.”
I took the check. Verified the amount.
“The community service starts Monday,” Connor said. “We’re working at Riverside Rehab Center. Fifty hours each.”
“Good. You’ll learn something there.”
“We also posted the video.” Blake pulled out his phone. Showed me.
A two-minute video. Both of them, serious, explaining what they’d done. Taking full responsibility. No excuses.
“It has three hundred thousand views,” Blake said quietly. “Most of the comments are people calling us trash.”
“Are they wrong?”
“No.”
Connor spoke up. “Ms. Martinez, can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why didn’t you destroy us? You could have. My dad said the federal charges would’ve meant prison time.”
I thought about it.