Bully Yanked The Freshman's Ponytail — Didn’t Know She Was Trained in Krav Maga
Chapter 14
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Claire thought about that. "If I found that person," she said, "if they were willing to come forward...""Then you would have something," Marsh said. "Not a guarantee, but something." He leaned forward slightly. "Claire, I want to be honest with you about something. I spent 11 years as a prosecutor before I came to teach. I have seen institutions protect themselves at the expense of the people they were supposed to serve more times than I can count. What you are describing is not unusual; it is not even surprising. What would be unusual is someone who had the patience and the documentation to see it through." He looked at her steadily. "Do you have that patience?""Yes," she said.He nodded once. "Then keep building. And don't tell anyone about the camera footage until the moment it is needed.""I already sent the preservation request," she said.Something moved in his expression, hard to name—something between respect and relief. "Good," he said. "That was the right move."Thursday afternoon, she was in the student records reading room with permission from the conduct office to review redacted complaint summaries related to her own case when she found the reference: a complaint filed 11 months ago, withdrawn six weeks later. The name of the complainant was redacted; the name of the respondent was not:Derek Moss.She wrote down the case number. She sat with it for a moment, then she went to find Marsh. He made two phone calls she was not present for. He came back 20 minutes later."Her name is Diane Foster," he said. "She's a sophomore. She withdrew the complaint after she received a letter from the dean's office suggesting her scholarship eligibility was under review."Claire felt something cold move through her. "She still has the letter?" she said."According to my source, yes. She kept everything.""Will she talk to me?"Marsh looked at her carefully. "That I can't tell you. She has every reason to be afraid. She made a calculation once about what she could afford to lose and she decided her scholarship was worth more than the fight. That's not a shameful decision; it is a decision made under real pressure by a real person."Claire thought about that. "I'm not going to ask her to fight for me," Claire said. "I'm going to ask her to tell the truth about what happened to her. That's her decision to make."Marsh studied her for a moment. "Room 318 of the Morrison building," he said. "She has a study period from 3:00 to 5:00 on Thursdays."Claire looked at the clock: it was 3:20.Diane Foster was 20 years old, studying education. She had a guarded quality that Claire recognized from the mirror. She looked up when Claire sat down across from her.Claire did not introduce herself with her complaint or her history. She said, "My name is Claire Whitfield. I'm a freshman. I know what happened to you last year, and I'm not here to ask you to do anything that costs you what you can't afford to lose."Diane looked at her for a long moment. "Then why are you here?" she said."Because you kept the letter," Claire said. "And I think part of you kept it for a reason."