Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~7 min read
Chapter 25: The Second Warning
SLOANE
The call comes on a Tuesday.
Officer Davies. Again.
After three years of silence.
“Ms. Mitchell?”
My stomach drops.
“Yes?”
“This is Officer Davies from California State Prison. I’m calling about Everett Cole.”
“What about him?”
“He’s been granted early parole review. Due to overcrowding.”
No.
No no no.
“When?”
“Six months. If approved, he could be out in a year.”
“He has ten more years—”
“State budget cuts. They’re releasing non-violent offenders early.”
“He’s violent! He assaulted multiple women! He attacked an inmate!”
“Those incidents extended his sentence. But overall, he’s classified as non-violent.”
I want to scream.
“What can I do?”
“File an opposition statement. Attend the hearing. Make your case.”
“I’ll do all of that.”
I call Rebecca immediately.
“Can they really release him early?”
“Unfortunately, yes. California’s prison system is overcrowded. Early parole is common.”
“But he’s dangerous—”
“I know. We’ll fight it. Gather evidence. Get character witnesses. Make sure the board knows exactly who he is.”
“What if they release him anyway?”
“Then your restraining order is still in effect. Permanent. If he comes near you, he’s arrested immediately.”
“That didn’t stop him before.”
“You’re in Oregon now. He doesn’t know where you live.”
“He could find out.”
“Then we take precautions. Enhance security. Stay vigilant.”
I tell Owen that night.
He goes pale.
“We knew this might happen eventually.”
“Not this soon. He was supposed to have ten more years.”
“What do we do?”
“I file opposition. Attend the hearing. Fight like hell.”
“And if he gets out anyway?”
“We prepare. Security system. Cameras. Maybe a second dog. Bigger one.”
“I’ll install everything tomorrow.”
I can’t sleep.
Every noise is him.
Every shadow is a threat.
I’m back in that headspace.
Hyper vigilant. Paranoid. Terrified.
Dr. Morgan does an emergency session.
Video call at 10 PM.
“Sloane, breathe.”
“He’s getting out—”
“Maybe. Not definitely.”
“But maybe is enough to destroy me—”
“No. It’s not. Because you’re not the same person you were five years ago. You’re stronger. Prepared. You know how to handle this.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. You’ve already survived him once. You can do it again.”
I start writing my opposition statement.
Pages and pages.
Every detail.
Every violation.
Every reason he should stay locked up.
*”Everett Cole is a predator. A manipulator. A sociopath. He has shown zero remorse for his crimes. Zero rehabilitation. He assaulted an inmate who resembled me. He manipulated a guard. He has spent his entire incarceration planning his next move. If released, he will offend again. I know this with certainty. Please keep him locked up. For me. For his next victim. For everyone.”*
Rebecca submits it to the parole board.
Along with statements from Amanda, Cassidy, and three other victims.
All saying the same thing: Don’t let him out.
The hearing is scheduled.
Two months away.
In California.
I’ll have to go back.
Face him.
Again.
“I’ll come with you,” Owen says.
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do. You’re not facing him alone.”
Heath offers too.
Jade.
Rebecca obviously.
I’m building an army.
Good.
I’ll need it.
The two months crawl by.
Every day feels like a year.
I’m anxious. Irritable. Not sleeping.
The PTSD I thought I’d conquered comes roaring back.
Nightmares every night.
Panic attacks during the day.
I increase therapy.
Back to twice a week.
Dr. Morgan is patient.
“This is a setback. Not a failure. You’re allowed to struggle.”
“I thought I was past this—”
“Trauma isn’t linear. Triggers happen. You handle them and move forward.”
I buy a gun.
Legal. Registered. Proper training.
Owen’s not thrilled.
“Are you sure?”
“If he comes here, I’m not going down without a fight.”
“Sloane—”
“I mean it. I’ll protect myself. By any means necessary.”
He doesn’t argue.
The day of the hearing arrives.
We fly to California.
Land in LAX.
Drive to the prison.
It feels like going back in time.
Back to the worst period of my life.
The hearing room is small.
Parole board of three people.
Everett in an orange jumpsuit. Handcuffed.
Lawyer beside him.
He sees me.
Smiles.
That same cold, calculating smile.
Like no time has passed.
Like he’s been waiting for this.
The board reviews his file.
“Mr. Cole has served five years of his fifteen-year sentence. During that time, he’s completed his GED. Participated in therapy. Maintained good behavior in the last two years.”
Good behavior.
Because he learned to hide his nature.
Not because he changed.
“Mr. Cole, do you have anything to say?”
Everett stands.
Looks directly at me.
“I’ve spent five years reflecting on my actions. I deeply regret the pain I caused. Especially to Sloane. I was young. Stupid. Influenced by my brother. But I’ve grown. Changed. I’m not that person anymore.”
Lies.
All lies.
I can see it in his eyes.
He’s performing.
Playing the role of reformed criminal.
“I’ve taken responsibility. Completed every program offered. I’m ready to rejoin society. Be a productive member. Make amends.”
The board nods.
Like they believe him.
It’s my turn.
I stand.
Walk to the podium.
Hands shaking.
But voice strong.
“Members of the board. My name is Sloane Mitchell. I’m one of Everett Cole’s victims. And I’m here to tell you: he hasn’t changed.”
Everett’s smile falters.
“He’s a sociopath. A master manipulator. He’s spent seven years learning how to appear reformed. But he’s not. He’s calculating his next move. Planning his next victim.”
“While incarcerated, he assaulted an inmate who looked like me. He manipulated a female guard. He’s threatened me through third parties. This is not a man who’s rehabilitated. This is a man who’s biding his time.”
“If you release him, he will offend again. He will hurt someone. Maybe me. Maybe someone else. But he will hurt someone. I’m begging you: don’t let him out. Keep him locked up. Protect his next victim.”
The board is quiet.
Then: “We’ll take all testimony under advisement. Decision will be rendered in two weeks.”
That’s it.
No immediate answer.
Just… waiting.
Again.
Outside, Rebecca is cautiously optimistic.
“Your testimony was powerful. They heard you.”
“Will it be enough?”
“I don’t know. But you did everything you could.”
We fly back to Oregon.
Wait.
The two weeks are torture.
Finally, the call comes.
“Ms. Mitchell, this is the parole board. We’ve reached a decision regarding Everett Cole.”
I hold my breath.
“Parole denied. He will serve the remainder of his sentence. Earliest possible release is ten years from now.”
I collapse.
Relief flooding through me.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Your testimony was compelling. As were the other victims’. We don’t believe Mr. Cole has been rehabilitated. We’ll revisit in five years.”
I call everyone.
Owen. Jade. Heath. Rebecca. Dr. Morgan.
“He’s staying in prison.”
Celebrations all around.
That night, I sleep.
Really sleep.
For the first time in two months.
No nightmares.
No panic.
Just… peace.
Ten more years.
By then, I’ll be forty-five.
He’ll be forty-nine.
Still dangerous.
But I’ll have ten more years to prepare.
To heal.
To live.
And maybe, in ten years, I won’t care anymore.
Maybe by then, he’ll be just a memory.
A footnote in my history.
Not a defining chapter.
I can hope.
END OF CHAPTER 25
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