Chapter 4: The Witness + The Text He Shouldn’t Have Sent
754 Words
Saturday. British Library.
Elise got there 20 minutes early. Hoodie up. Sunglasses on even though it was grey.
She sat by the big glass windows on the 3rd floor. Public. Loud. Safe.
At 2:02pm a woman walked in. 40s. Tired eyes. Same white coat bag Elise used to carry.
“Dr. Patel?” Elise asked, standing.
The woman nodded. Sat. Didn’t order coffee.
“I’m Elise,” she said.
“I know who you are,” Dr. Patel said quietly. “I read about you.”
Elise flinched. “What did you read?”
“‘Non-cooperation’. ‘Unprofessional conduct’.” Dr. Patel gave a bitter laugh. “That’s what they called me too.”
Elise leaned in. “Who was your donor?”
Dr. Patel looked around. “I can’t say his name. Not here. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because he owns the building we’re sitting in,” she said. “Indirectly. And his lawyers are everywhere.”
Elise’s blood went cold. “So you’re scared.”
“I’m terrified,” Dr. Patel said. “I lost everything. My house. My practice. My name. I’m teaching biology at a sixth form in Croydon now.”
Elise felt sick. “Did he... did he ask you for something?”
Dr. Patel met her eyes. “He asked me to be ‘grateful’. In private.”
Elise didn’t breathe.
“That’s the pattern,” Dr. Patel said. “He picks women. Young. Successful. No husband. No protection. Then he makes an offer. When we say no, he makes a call.”
Elise nodded. Her hands were under the table so Patel wouldn’t see them shake.
“Will you testify?” Elise asked.
Dr. Patel looked down. “I have a daughter. 9. If I speak, he’ll ruin me again. I’m sorry, Dr. Hart.”
She stood. “I shouldn’t have come. Please don’t tell anyone I was here.”
And she was gone.
Elise sat there for 10 minutes. Staring at nothing.
A pattern. And still no proof.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number: Hey. It’s Leo. From the park. You said maybe Thursday. Still on?
She stared at it.
She shouldn’t answer. She was drowning.
She typed: Yeah. Thursday. Same bench.
Send.
---
Sunday she didn’t leave her flat.
She read tribunal files. She read donor lists. She drank too much tea.
Her side hurt. She ignored it.
Monday. Priya called.
“Ruth Coleman won’t talk,” Priya said. “She hung up.”
Elise closed her eyes. “So it’s just me.”
“For now,” Priya said. “But we keep digging. And Elise... don’t do anything stupid. Don’t confront him.”
“I won’t,” Elise lied.
---
Tuesday.
She was at King’s Cross buying a sandwich when she saw him.
Leo.
He was on the phone. Arguing.
“I don’t care what he wants,” Leo said. “I’m not coming to the board meeting. I have class.”
Pause.
“No, I’m not 12. Stop treating me like it.”
He hung up. Looked up. Saw her.
His face changed. The anger dropped.
“Elise,” he said.
“Hey,” she said.
He looked wrecked. Like he hadn’t slept.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Family stuff,” he said, shoving his phone in his pocket. “You?”
“Same,” she said.
He smiled. Small. “Want a coffee? My treat. No strings.”
She should’ve said no. She had work to do.
“Okay,” she said.
They went to Pret again.
He talked this time. About his course. About how he hated his dad’s company. About how he wanted to open a bookstore one day. Something quiet.
Elise listened. She didn’t talk about herself.
When they left, he walked her to the tube.
“Thursday,” he said.
“Thursday,” she said.
He hesitated. “Can I... can I have your number? In case it rains.”
She gave it to him.
He saved it as Elise - Park Bench.
She saved his as Leo.
---
Wednesday night. 11:47pm.
Her phone lit up.
Leo: Can’t sleep. You ever feel like you’re fighting something and you don’t even know what the rules are?
Elise stared at the ceiling.
She typed: Every day.
Leo: Want to talk about it Thursday?
Elise: Yeah.
She put her phone down.
She was supposed to be building a case.
Instead she was waiting for Thursday.
And that scared her more than Damian Cross.
—
- Writer
