Chapter 4: The Woman Everyone Blamed
“Lena Brooks?””
I looked at the officer standing in front of me.
“Yes?””
He pulled out a folder.
“Ma’am, you need to come with us.””
The entire room changed.
Again.
It was almost impressive how quickly people decided who they believed.
Ten minutes ago, I was a hero.
Now I was a suspect.
Whispers started immediately.
“That’s the waitress.””
“She was the one who hit him.””
“I knew something was strange.””
I wanted to laugh.
Not because anything was funny.
Because apparently saving a billionaire’s life only bought you about ten minutes of respect.
“What is this about?”” Malik asked.
The officer looked at him.
“Mr. Sterling, we received information that Ms. Brooks may have been involved in the poisoning attempt.””
The words hit me harder than I expected.
Involved?
Me?
I looked around the room.
People who had watched me risk everything were suddenly looking at me like I was dangerous.
“No,” Malik said.
The officer raised an eyebrow.
“Sir, we have evidence.””
“What evidence?””
The officer hesitated.
Then opened the folder.
Inside were photos.
My picture.
My employee information.
A copy of my work schedule.
And a report showing I had been assigned to serve Malik’s table.
My stomach dropped.
“That proves I was working.””
The officer nodded.
“It also proves you had access.””
I stared at him.
“So does every person who works here.””
Silence.
Because that was the truth.
Servers.
Chefs.
Bartenders.
Security.
Dozens of people had access.
But I was the easiest person to blame.
The woman nobody knew.
The woman without money.
The woman without connections.
Malik stepped between us.
“She’s not involved.””
The officer looked at him.
“Mr. Sterling, we’re investigating all possibilities.””
Julian laughed.
A quiet laugh.
Everyone turned.
Even with security holding him, he looked satisfied.
“You see?”” he said.
“That’s what happens when you don’t know who you trust.””
Malik turned toward him.
“Shut up.””
But Julian smiled.
Because he had found another way to create chaos.
I looked at Malik.
“Don’t defend me because you feel guilty.””
His expression changed.
“What?””
I swallowed.
“You don’t know me.””
The words surprised him.
They surprised me too.
But they were true.
I didn’t want to be somebody’s charity case.
I didn’t want Malik Sterling saving me because I saved him.
“I know what I saw,” Malik said.
“And I know what I did.””
I looked around the ballroom.
“I threw a glass at you. I caused a scene. I had access to your drink. If you didn’t know me, why would you automatically believe me?””
For a moment, he didn’t answer.
Because there was no easy answer.
Then he said something I didn’t expect.
“Because you could have walked away.””
That stopped me.
“You had no reason to protect me.””
I looked down.
He was right.
I could have ignored Andre.
I could have pretended I saw nothing.
That was what people usually did.
They protected themselves.
But I had spent my whole life watching people stay silent when something was wrong.
And I was tired of it.
The officer cleared his throat.
“We still need Ms. Brooks to answer questions.””
Malik nodded.
“But she won’t do it alone.””
The officer looked confused.
“I’ll have legal representation present.””
I almost laughed.
Of course he would.
Malik Sterling could make one phone call and have lawyers standing outside before the elevator doors opened.
I had never had that kind of protection.
Not once.
As they led me away, I looked back.
Julian was still watching me.
Not angry.
Not afraid.
Interested.
Like he knew something I didn’t.
That bothered me.
More than the police.
More than the accusations.
Because Julian Sterling was not the type of man who lost control.
Which meant something was still happening.
Outside the ballroom, an officer asked me questions.
Where was I from?
How long had I worked at the venue?
Did I know Malik before tonight?
The answers were simple.
No.
No.
No.
But then came the question that changed everything.
“Have you ever met Andre Lewis before?””
I froze.
Andre.
The man who poisoned Malik.
The man who ran.
The man connected to Julian.
“No.””
The officer studied me.
“You’re sure?””
“Yes.””
He placed another photo on the table.
It was a picture of Andre standing outside my neighborhood community center.
My neighborhood.
My world.
And standing beside him was someone I recognized.
My older brother.
Jamal.
I felt the room disappear.
Because suddenly, this was no longer just Malik Sterling’s family war.
Somehow...
May you like
Somewhere...
It had reached mine.
