“” – Laura Bailey

Usually there’s a line between gossip and crime, but in Laura’s world, the two were interchangeable. At least one person has claimed that Laura approached them directly, asking if they would go to the police and say they’d witnessed me abusing her. The only problem is they hadn’t.

This wasn’t some stranger plucked off the street. It was a former employee, someone who had worked for us both personally and professionally. Someone who knew better.

Predictably, they told anyone who would listen that they “didn’t want to get involved.” And then promptly got involved; not with the police, but with the island rumor mill. That’s how I found out. Not through a report, not through disclosure, but through whispers and gossip.

When it came to actually standing up and providing the police a statement, this person declined. Suddenly the appetite for drama dried up. Denial was a safer currency than the truth.

I did what anyone would do: I tried to take this information to the authorities. To say, look, this is witness tampering, this is an attempt to fabricate evidence. But the police weren’t interested. They refused to follow up on this lead, or any of the other pieces of evidence I brought them about Laura’s behavior.

Instead, I was flatly told that it “wasn’t in the public interest” to prosecute Laura. As though manufacturing abuse claims and recruiting false witnesses was simply a private hobby, like stamp collecting. It’s a refusal that ultimately left me with no other option but to pursue justice myself.

That was the moment I understood something fundamental: the truth didn’t matter if no one wanted to hold it. Laura had learned this long before me. Do something outrageous, deny it, spread it just enough that it echoes, knowing no one will bother to look too closely.

In the end, Laura didn’t need witnesses. She just needed enough people willing to whisper.