Chapter 8: Gathering Evidence

Before this, I’d already asked him to collect as much evidence as possible.

Derek was methodical—screenshots, timestamps, links. He mapped it all out on a whiteboard in his basement, tracking every post, every comment, every threat. He treated it like a police investigation, even though he’d never worn a badge.

At Derek’s place, he smoked and clicked his mouse, showing me, “It’s all here—easy to collect. She’s opened several Instagram and Facebook accounts.”

He flicked through folders, each labeled by date, each post cross-referenced. He even had a spreadsheet tallying the number of shares. The evidence was overwhelming.

“On those accounts, she’s posted a dozen rants, either directly accusing you or hinting the cops refused to open a case.”

Derek scrolled through screenshots, his face grim. "She gets more creative every time someone calls her out."

“She seems to have a problem—she doesn’t even call the cops ‘cops’.”

He looked up, one eyebrow raised. “She’s trying to make them sound like the enemy. She calls them something else in every post.”

“What does she call them?” I leaned over.

Derek tapped his cigarette ash. “She calls the cops ‘badges’—she keeps saying the badges won’t open a case for her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Like she’s in some kind of TV show.”

Derek helped me gather all the evidence of the mother’s online attacks against me.

He printed everything out, three-hole punched and filed it in a binder. He even highlighted the worst threats and noted which posts went viral.

I also compiled her invasion of my privacy, defamation, and incitement of online abuse against me and my family.

My lawyer double-checked everything, adding cease-and-desist letters, copies of police reports, and medical statements for my dad’s stroke.

All of it was submitted to the police.

We handed over a box so heavy it took both of us to carry it inside. The detective raised an eyebrow but promised to review it all.

After receiving the evidence, the cops officially summoned the mother.

She showed up with a lawyer and a chip on her shoulder, her daughter nowhere in sight. She barely glanced at me, but I could feel her hate from across the room.

“You reported me?” she spat at me.

Her voice was sharp, full of disbelief. She looked at me like I’d kicked her dog.

“You did such a thing and still have the nerve to report me?”

She shook her head, incredulous. Her lawyer put a hand on her arm, but she jerked away.

“Officer, I’ve submitted all the evidence. I request you handle this according to the law,” I said to the police.

My voice sounded steadier than I felt. Derek squeezed my shoulder, silent support at my side.

“Evidence? What evidence?” the mother growled.

Her lawyer motioned for her to be quiet, but she just got louder.

The police explained, “You are suspected of invading someone’s privacy, damaging their reputation, and inciting public attacks…”

The detective’s voice was matter-of-fact, reading from the paperwork. The mother looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language.

“It’s because you did nothing, ignoring us single moms and kids—that’s why I did this! Everything I said is true! I’m not afraid of you! He deserves to die!” she shouted. “Even my daughter said it was him!”

Her voice rose, echoing off the cinderblock walls. The detective’s jaw tightened. He glanced at me, silently apologizing for the circus.

I ignored her.

I stared straight ahead, focusing on the badge pinned to the detective’s shirt, willing myself not to scream.

I told the police my demands directly. “She spread rumors about me on every major platform, not only destroying my reputation but also causing enormous harm to me and my family. I demand a public apology, deletion of all false rumors, compensation for all my losses, and that she be criminally investigated to the full extent of the law.”

My lawyer nodded, handing over the formal complaint. Derek stood behind me, arms crossed, daring anyone to object.

I stressed, “I absolutely will not consider a settlement!”

I met her eyes, letting her see the anger, the hurt, the resolve. For the first time, she blinked.

The mother exploded. “Compensate your losses? What losses? My daughter was violated by you! If anyone should compensate, it’s you paying me!”

She lunged at me, but her lawyer caught her, pulling her back into her seat. The detective raised his voice, warning her to calm down.

She grabbed the police. “Officer, I want to file a case too! Make him pay me! And lock him up!”

Her lawyer tried to hush her, but she wouldn’t stop. The detective glanced at the clock, clearly running out of patience.

The police frowned. “We’ve already determined your daughter was not violated. The person whose rights have been infringed is this gentleman.”

He gestured to me, voice steely. The mother fell silent for a moment, rage and confusion warring on her face.

“Who says my daughter wasn’t violated!”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough. The detective wrote something down, shaking his head. Derek shot me a look—this wasn’t over.