that night.
According to Anderson, his father ordered Creed to keep the truth a secret from everyone, including Anderson himself. Until a year ago, he had no recollection of his involvement in the crash due to several moments of temporary blindness that caused him to swerve the car he drove into the wrong lane, forcing Hunter and me off the road. It wasn’t until Creed realized who I was that he finally came clean to Anderson. But I’m still not sure how many people Anderson has shared the truth with, apart from Esme. And, of course, Hunter’s parents when he confessed his involvement to them. But being the kind, forgiving people they are, they never went public with it.
“We both know who that is, Ms. Tremblay.” She pins me with a glare before returning her attention to the board. “I wasn’t involved in the initial aftermath. Following Ms. Davies’ death, Gabriel wasn’t in a good spot. So my son handled the situation as best he could with as minimal blowback on the royal family as possible.”
“He kept his involvement quiet.”
“Yes. There was a referendum vote that year, as well, much like now. Granted, it didn’t have as much support as it does this year, but still… It was a risk we couldn’t afford. And now we find ourselves in the unique situation where clearing your name would entail throwing one of our own to the wolves. And despite the opportunity this life has afforded him, I have no doubt Gabriel would happily sacrifice himself for you.”
I nod, no question in my mind he’d do just that. That he’s probably contemplating doing it at this very moment.
“Unfortunately, doing so would complicate matters. Not only will the people of this country essentially learn that the royal family was involved in covering up a crime seven years ago, but we also have an extradition treaty with the United States, which would require us to hand Gabriel over if the district attorney decided to charge him with any crime in connection with his arguably reckless driving that resulted in the death of two people. I’m not certain of the penalties for manslaughter in New York, but I assume it will most certainly include prison time.”
“Prison?” I squeak out, my mouth growing dry. That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. “It was seven years ago. Surely, any statute of limitations has run out.”
“Unfortunately, it hasn’t. While the statute of limitations would generally be five years, in many jurisdictions, it’s suspended during any period the alleged offender isn’t physically present in the state.”
I look up from the chess board, my breathing growing shallow as dread settles deep in my stomach.
“You’re most likely doing the math in your head right now,” she remarks, making her next move with confidence and determination, her white pieces beginning to circle my king like a shark. But I still have a few moves up my sleeve.
I hope.
“He hasn’t been in New York for a total of five years,” I murmur.
“Precisely.”
“So if he were to come forward…” I trail off, shaking my head. “Isn’t there some sort of immunity?”
“To some extent, yes. As you should have learned during your training, the royal family does enjoy some immunity. But there’s no diplomatic immunity for causing a car accident and fleeing the scene of a crime. It’s irrelevant that he may have also saved a life that night. In the eyes of the law, he took a life. Technically, two.”
“But his MS,” I argue, grasping at straws. “He had temporary blindness. That must be a defense.”
“It’s possible. But not a guarantee. That would be up to the judge or jury to decide. Who can very well decide that Anderson was negligent in getting behind the wheel in the first place upon leaving the hospital where his girlfriend had just died. Even went so far as to threaten and assault his chief protection officer in order to do so.”
I study the board, trying to strategize several moves ahead on both our parts, searching for a way out of this corner I seem to be stuck in.
“I can tell you His Majesty and the Privy Council are having the same discussion with Prince Gabriel as we speak. And they’re also telling him the choice he has to make.”
“And what’s that?”
“The one we must make every day of our lives. Between our wants and our country’s needs. He can either love you or love his country, but it appears he can’t do both.” She leans closer. “Do you