The days following the dismissal were a blur of grief and despair. The phone rang, but it wasn’t for me. It was for Calvin.
He called me a few days later, his voice flat, devoid of its usual spark. “Eleanor,” he began, “I… I’ve been suspended.”
My stomach dropped. “Suspended? What are you talking about?”
“From the District Attorney’s office,” he explained, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Effective immediately. They’ve launched an internal investigation for ‘professional misconduct’ and ‘overstepping authority.’ Judge Finch’s ‘notes’ on my ‘zeal’ apparently went straight to the top.”
I could hear the raw pain in his voice. He had believed in justice, had fought so hard, and now he was paying the price.
“But… but you were helping me,” I stammered, feeling a fresh wave of guilt. “You were doing the right thing.”
“The ‘right thing’ doesn’t always win, Eleanor,” he said, his voice heavy. “Especially when you’re up against someone like Croft. He ensures there’s always a consequence for those who try to expose him.”
He paused. “My career… it’s probably over. I may never practice law again.”
The system had not only failed Tommy and me, but it had also crushed the one person brave enough to fight for us. Calvin’s idealism, his unwavering conscience, had become his undoing. Croft’s reach extended everywhere, silencing all opposition, leaving behind a trail of ruined lives and broken spirits.
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