Institutional fury.
The kind that made people speak softly.
“Vanessa.”
She stood.
He waved her back down.
“I just saw the footage.”
“I assumed.”
Hayes closed the door.
“He's suspended immediately.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Internal review started.”
“Yes.”
“Local police and federal prosecutors are discussing jurisdiction.”
“Fine.”
Hayes sat.
“You need to go home.”
“No.”
“Vanessa.”
“I have opinions due.”
“You were assaulted.”
“I have been assaulted before.”
Hayes stared.
The sentence surprised him.
Vanessa regretted saying it.
Not because untrue.
Because it widened the moment.
She continued:
“Not here.”
Hayes's face softened.
“That's why this is different.”
Vanessa looked toward the window.
He was right.
The courthouse had always been complicated for her.
Imperfect.
Bureaucratic.
Sometimes exhausting.
But safe in a way other places were not.
Here, titles had process.
Authority had rules.
Arguments ended with records.
You could appeal.
You could object.
You could put disagreement into writing.
Then Derek turned a corridor into something else.
A place where a man grabbed first and invented justification second.
Vanessa said:
“I don't want anyone deciding this matters more because I'm a judge.”
Hayes stared.
“What?”
“If I were a witness, would the response be different?”
“No.”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow.
Hayes sighed.
“It shouldn't be.”
“Exactly.”
She leaned forward.
“The headline will be that he assaulted a federal judge.”
“He did.”
“He didn't know that.”
“Doesn't help him.”
“My point.”
Vanessa’s voice strengthened.
“He thought I was nobody important.”
Hayes remained silent.
Vanessa continued:
“That is the part I care about.”
“He believed he could slap and shove a woman because he thought she had no power over him.”
Hayes nodded slowly.
“You think this is bigger than one incident.”
“I don't know yet.”
There.
Again.
I don't know.
But Vanessa already suspected.
People rarely developed that kind of confidence from one bad morning.
Behavior had rehearsal.
Habits had history.
She asked:
“Any prior complaints?”
Hayes hesitated.
That was enough.
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“Leonard.”
“I asked security.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“There are some.”
“What does some mean?”
“Three formal.”
Vanessa stared.
“Before today?”
“Yes.”
“Force?”
“One.”
“What happened?”
“Unsubstantiated.”
“By whom?”
“Different agency.”
Derek had worked for city police before reassignment to courthouse duty under a temporary security partnership.
Hayes continued:
“Another involved aggressive language with an attorney.”
“And third?”
“Improper detention of a delivery employee.”
Vanessa felt cold.
“Black?”
Hayes looked uncomfortable.
“Two complainants were.”
“Third?”
“Latino.”