The Hockey Star’s Remorse by Riley Above Story

Chapter 206

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After everyone was dismissed from the judgment hearing, Jane and I made our way out of the courtroom. She took my arm and whispered, “I know this wasn’t what we expected, Evie, but remember, it’s uncontrollable most times. The truth will come out.”

I nodded, my thoughts heavy with the weight of the decision made in that courtroom. My life was about to change in ways I couldn’t anticipate. As we exited the courthouse, I felt a sense of vulnerability I hadn’t felt before.

The last thing I had expected was for the case to go federal, which meant more media buzz.

The moment I stepped outside, the flashing of cameras and the cacophony of voices hit me like a tidal wave. The paparazzi, like vultures to a fresh kill, swarmed around me. Questions were thrown at me from every direction.

“Evie, why are you going against the man who made your career?”

“Are you doing this for publicity, Evie?”

“Is this just revenge for a grudge?”

I clenched my fists and faced the barrage of questions head–on. My voice was firm, and my words cut through the chaos. “I climbed the ladder in this industry by being good at what I do, and I’ll be damned if I let that awful man ruin another woman’s career. This isn’t about revenge; it’s about justice.”

My statement hung in

hung in the air like a dare. The media was taken aback by my resolute response. For months, they had painted me as a disgruntled actress seeking attention or revenge against her former mentor. But now, I had drawn a line in the sand, and the tides were shifting.

After that moment, the message reverberated through the media like a shockwave. Headlines and breaking news alerts quickly spread across every platform. “Evie Sinclair Takes a Stand Against Erickson,” “Ex–Lawyer Defends Her Integrity,” and “The Truth Unveiled.” The reactions were instantaneous and divisive.

Some of my own fans showed up in interviews, expressing their unwavering support for me. They claimed they had never believed the lies about me, and that this was nothing more than a media circus. Their angry voices added fuel to the already blazing fire.

“I’ve followed Erickson’s career for years, and I never once thought he was capable of what they’re accusing him.

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of,” a colleague of his said, her voice laced with anger. “That Evie woman is just seeking attention, and she’s doing it at his expense.”

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But there were others who saw my words and actions in a different light. Supporters began to emerge, not only from the industry but from everyday people who understood the magnitude of what I was doing.

A young woman, speaking on a talk show, said, “Evie Sinclair is a brave woman for standing up to a powerful man like him. We need more voices like hers in the work world.”

And then there were the feminist activists who saw my battle as a symbol of larger issues in society. “Evie Sinclair’s case is just the tip of the iceberg. It’s a glaring example of how these companies protect male chauvinists, no matter the cost. Her fight is our fight,” a protester said, her voice tinged with determination.

Social media was the battleground for this war of words. My Twitter feed was filled with both support and vitriol. People debated the credibility of my accusations, the motives behind my actions, and the inevitable backlash | would face. It was a storm of voices, and I was caught in the eye of it.

For every positive message I received, there were a dozen negative ones. My mentions were flooded with hate and disbelief. It was as if my decision to speak out had ignited a battle of ideologies, and I was at the forefront of

1. it.

I couldn’t help but read some of the comments, and it was both uplifting and disheartening. My supporters were unwavering, and they reminded me that I was not alone.

The situation was no longer about one woman against a powerful man; it had escalated into a battle of narratives, and the lines had been drawn. The public’s perception of me was divided, and it was clear that I was no longer just an “ex–lawyer“. I was now a symbol of something much larger.

After a week, the media storm around me showed no signs of abating. My inbox was constantly flooded with Interview requests, hate mail, and expressions of solidarity. I could barely keep up with it all. I felt like I was living in a parallel universe, where my every move was scrutinized, and my words dissected for hidden meanings.

I couldn’t escape the public eye. Every time I stepped outside, there were reporters and photographers waiting, ready to capture my every move. It was like being under a microscope, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter what I did, I was always being watched.

My phone buzzed incessantly with calls and messages from friends, family, and well–wishers. It was a double- edged sword–on one hand, their support was a source of strength, but on the other, the constant attention had started taking a toll on me. I decided to shut it off for the day, and watch some TV to clear my mind..

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Of course, the news was the first channel to pop on. I stared blankly at the screen, only half– listening to the news anchor’s monotone voice. They were discussing the latest developments in my case, but I had grown numb to the never–ending cycle of information. My gaze wandered around the room, searching for something to focus on other than the relentless coverage.

And then it happened. A familiar face appeared on the screen, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Timothy emerged, speaking with a talk–show host, exuding sincerity.

“I want to clarify that I have the utmost respect for Evie Sinclair,” Timothy began, his words measured, “She is a talented lawyer, and she has always been a woman of integrity. She would never take these kinds of accusations lightly.”

My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him on the screen. The reporters, sensing a potential scoop, were quick to pounce on the revelation.

“Mr. Hayes,” one of them asked, “have you and Evie Sinclair reconciled since your split from Stella?”

Timothy’s gaze held a hint of vulnerability as he responded, “Evie is a remarkable woman. She was there for me when I needed it the most. We share a history, and I will always be grateful for her support during a difficult

time.”

My heart wrenched at his words. He had evaded the question in a respectable manner, though it might have been suspicious for some to hear. It didn’t help that we had surpassed any level of “friendliness” quite a bit ago. For now, it helped that the public was none the wiser, but how long would that last?

I reached for the remote and turned off the TV, the sudden silence in the room almost deafening. I leaned and shut my eyes, trying to drown out the myriad of thoughts and feelings that surged within me..

Jane’s words echoed in my mind, “We’ll get through it, step by step.”

But the steps ahead seemed increasingly uncertain.

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