Chapter 34: Attitude Determines the Future—Don’t Make Promises Lightly

Two police officers exchanged a glance at the door. The one taking notes closed his notebook and pen. “There’s good news—we’ve caught the guy who took your stuff. But you need to come identify him. You understand?”

He avoided words like theft or burglary, instead saying took, downplaying the severity of the case and putting pressure on Lynch.

Not everyone dares to identify criminals in person. Statistics last year showed about 61.94% of witnesses refused to identify suspects, and over 77.53% refused to testify in court.

This reveals many problems—either the poor public security in Baylor Federal or the unchecked boldness of criminal forces.

Asking someone to identify a suspect only increases witness pressure. But they picked the wrong person. Lynch quickly got dressed. “What are we waiting for?”

The two officers didn’t fully understand Lynch’s situation but hoped to resolve the matter smoothly.

On the way to the station, the officer in the passenger seat talked about the suspect they caught.

“He’s a young student who denies doing it. And honestly, we don’t have enough evidence to pin the charge on him completely…”

That was partly true but also an insult—at the station, if police decide someone is guilty, they can manipulate evidence to lock them up. Clearly, this time they didn’t plan to do that.

The officer glanced at Lynch and said, “I think that kid deserves a chance. This weak case might ruin his life.”

He paused. “You weren’t hurt and lost little. If he’s willing to compensate, maybe you two can talk.”

After saying that, the officer turned away. What happened next wasn’t his decision—it wasn’t up to a junior cop.

For those two officers, Lynch’s choice didn’t matter; no matter what, the consequences wouldn’t fall on them. They just tried to follow orders.

They stayed silent until the car stopped at the police station.

“Have you made up your mind, young man?” an officer said, leading him to the office building and holding the door open.

Lynch nodded calmly. “Maybe I should talk to him.”

“Smart choice!” The officer patted his shoulder and led him to an interrogation room, smiling lightly. In a low voice he said, “You can rip him apart like a lion. He’s a rich jerk—at least richer than us. You get me?”

Lynch nodded. The officer smiled and opened the door. “We turned off the recorder. Knock when you’re done. I’ll be right outside.”

Good people like this are rare. Lynch nodded firmly and stepped inside.

At this point, the police procedure was already messed up. Before court, victims and offenders—or plaintiffs and defendants—aren’t supposed to meet. But sometimes reality trumps rules.

The interrogation room had one table and four fixed chairs. Michael sat on one side, head down and dejected.

Seeing Lynch enter, Michael looked up. He couldn’t understand why the ring in his father’s drawer was stolen property. He felt both relieved and uneasy.

The ring wasn’t proof Michael betrayed the family, but its origin suggested his father might be involved in crime. Inside, he wrestled with a pain he couldn’t express, unsure what to do but sympathizing with Lynch.

The police had told him they’d bring the complainant. If Michael could convince the complainant to drop the case, he could post bail and leave.

This wouldn’t stain his record. If no further crimes occurred within a set time after dropping the case, all records would be sealed in a file most people would never see.

Michael opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure what to say.

Kids his age often have a strong sense of right and wrong. He saw Lynch as the victim. Suddenly, he felt filthy for trying to destroy justice and fairness like those he despised.

Ashamed, he stayed silent, waiting for Lynch’s terms.

No matter what Lynch asked, as long as it wasn’t excessive, Michael would agree. This wasn’t really his fault, but he wanted to atone for his father.

He didn’t know why Michael broke in and took Lynch’s ring, but that was done. Dwelling on it was pointless. Now he just had to compensate Lynch and protect his father.

Sometimes young people refuse to accept their youth until reality slaps them hard.

Lynch sat and paused briefly. “I’m not here to talk about how much money it will take to settle this…”

Michael looked up in surprise. Lynch continued, “Don’t think your filthy money can buy justice. Even if it goes to state court, I won’t back down!”

Lynch’s stance shocked Michael, snapping him out of his self-loathing. His legs trembled.

Before he could speak, Lynch went on, “Everyone must take responsibility for their actions, student or not—even government officials must face justice.”

“The court, the judge, and the public will give you a fair trial. No matter how high you stand, when the judge’s gavel falls, you’ll be pulled down. The higher you are, the harder you’ll fall.”

Sweat formed on Michael’s face. He hadn’t fully pictured himself as the suspect but saw his father in that role.

This caused an indescribable internal struggle and pain. He could already imagine his father in the defendant’s seat, guilty verdict, and how their family would collapse instantly.

“Is… no room for negotiation?” His voice was bitter but hopeful.

Lynch shook his head. “If I broke into your home, took what matters most, then threw a stack of cash in your face saying it’s over—would you accept that?”

Michael said nothing, sinking deeper into despair. Lynch’s lips twitched into a slight smile as he stood.

“I’m here to tell you my attitude: no compromise. I don’t want your filthy money. And don’t look down on others!” He knocked on the door and left amid the confused stares of the police.

Soon the officer returned, hands on hips, looking at the downcast Michael. “Did you reach an agreement?”

Michael sighed deeply. He knew his life, family, and status all depended on his father’s job.

If his father was reported and convicted—even without prison—he’d lose his job.

The IRS wouldn’t keep a tainted person in management. Losing that job would force them out of the middle-class neighborhood to the poorer districts.

Their future would be shrouded in darkness. Keeping his father’s job was the only way to prevent disaster.

Michael even imagined his father somehow getting him out and giving him a new identity to start over elsewhere.

More than worrying about himself, Michael decided. He took a deep breath, looked at the officer, and said, “I plead guilty. I admit to breaking in…”

Outside the police station, Lynch glanced back at the solemn building and smiled faintly.

He would entrust certain people to take good care of Michael Jr. in prison, just as Michael had threatened him.