He jumped out and rushed to her side of the car. Ever the gentleman, he opened her door. She stepped out and gathered her bag from the bookstore and the sandals in her hand. She walked to the door barefoot. He shut the door and leaned against the car.
She turned back. “What?” she asked.
With a wide, beautiful grin, he said, “Nothing. Just watching you walk.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Bianca
Bianca squeezed Mila’s hand as they attended their meeting via phone with the Victims’ Resource Center.
“We’re just going to talk,” Bianca said. “You don’t have to commit to anything today.”
Mila nodded, but her shoulders were tight, her jaw locked. She kept her eyes on the hardwood floors of the beach house.
“Hi, Mila,” a woman said softly as she joined them on the phone. “I’m Kathleen.”
Mila looked up at Bianca, then spoke into the phone. “Hi.”
The woman’s voice was calm. “I’m one of the advocates here at the Victims’ Resource Center in Los Angeles County,” Kathleen said. “Would you like to talk with me for a bit?”
“Yes,” Mila said softly, just above a whisper.
“I understand your mom is on the line as well. Would you like for her to stay on?”
Mila looked at Bianca, then replied to Kathleen. “Yes, I want her to stay on the line.”
“You attend UCLA, right?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me what happened the night you were violated,Mila?” said Kathleen. “Did it take place on or off campus?”
Finally, Mila spoke. “It was off campus. I was at a party with my friend Keisha—a frat party.”
“And what happened at the party? Were you drinking or using drugs?”
Mila looked at Bianca, then cautiously answered, “We were drinking. I left my cup to go dance. When I came back, someone had to have spiked it with something, because I don’t remember anything after that,” Mila said. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I was tested, and I really was raped.”
Kathleen’s voice was steady. “I’m so sorry, Mila. You didn’t deserve that. I’m glad you are willing to talk about it.”
Mila’s hands trembled slightly in her lap. “I don’t know who it was. I don’t even remember how I got in that room.”
“That’s more common than you’d think,” Kathleen said. “Memory loss can happen when drugs are involved, or trauma. But we can still take steps without you having all the details. You don’t have to remember everything for us to help you.”
Mila glanced at Bianca, then turned her attention back to the phone. “What steps?”
“Well,” Kathleen began, “the first is to make sure you feel safe—emotionally and physically. Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then, if you’re open to it, we can help you file a report, even if it’s delayed. We can walk you through a forensic interview with professionals trained to work with survivors. No pressure. Just support.”
Mila swallowed hard. “But what if it doesn’t lead anywhere?”
Kathleen nodded. “It might not. But sometimes even just telling your story—getting it out—is a kind of justice. And in some cases, others may come forward. Maybe you’re not the only one.”
Bianca reached over and rested a hand on Mila’s back.