Chapter 20: Forgiveness

"Sir, you are not responsible for Hannah Baker's death." I watch him in amazement as his voice gains power and loses the tremble. "You failed her, we all did. We all could have done more, seen how much pain she was in, cared more about her. You are no different from the rest of us. You are not to blame for Hannah's death." He gestures around the entire room. "You said yourself, every single one of us fucked up, excuse my language sir. Every single one of us, with no exceptions. We all bear joint responsibility for the life and death of Hannah Baker.

"You're right. You let her walk out of your office. You should have gone after her. You should have taken her seriously. You should have asked more questions. You didn't. But I saw the look on your face that day in the classroom, sir. I heard the fear in your voice. You'd planned to talk to her. That's why you asked about her. You realised after she'd left your office that something was seriously wrong and you were planning on trying to help. You were too late, but you never meant to let Hannah go."

Everyone in the room has frozen. Every eye is on Clay as he speaks, the passion evident in his voice. Tears are falling shamelessly from my face and as Clifford hands me the tissues I can see that they are falling down his face as well. None of us expected this. None of us know how to respond.

"Sir, you cannot let this ruin you anymore than we can let it ruin us. You can take something from this. We all can. The next time we see someone who desperately needs help, we will help them. The next time we see someone lost in their own desperation we will know that we need to reach out them. We can take the message that what we do matters and we all have the power to reach out and save someone. That everything we do has an impact and we can make a difference. The same goes for all of us.

"Sir, you have absolved all of us in turn. Let me do the same for you. You made a mistake. You messed up. None of us deny that. But we all made mistakes. We all messed up. You are not responsible for Hannah Baker's death. And you have the power to ensure that you don't make the same mistake again. We all have that power."

I'm sobbing uncontrollably. I am standing in front of a group of students and I have lost all power of speech. The boy in front of me, a mere child who is speaking with such power and intensity turns to Clifford. A child is absolving me. The voice of innocence speaking with the power of more seasoned wisdom.

"Sir. You can't let him go. You can't let him resign. He made a mistake like any other person but he didn't know what Hannah would do. And…" Clay falters, suddenly showing that he really is just teenager, trapped and insecure. "And despite everything, Mr. Porter has shown today that he really cares. He cares about us. He cared about Hannah. He has given us a gift that words cannot express. He has given us absolution.

"That's…that's all I wanted to say, sir."

With that he walks out the room followed by the majority of the other students. Soon the only people left in the room were me, Clifford, Mrs. Bradford and…and Jessica. Jessica still hasn't moved from her corner.

I walk slowly over to her.

I crouch beside her.

"Jessica?" My voice is soft and gentle. "Jessica, this is not your fault. I promise you, this is not your fault. Can you hear me? You are not to blame. It does not matter that you'd been drinking, he took something that wasn't his to take. You did not ask for it. He is the one to blame. He is the one who took your dignity and confidence. He is the one who decided on a whim to strip you of everything you held dear purely because he wanted to.

"Jessica. I can't make everything better, I wish I could. There is nothing I can say that will make this better and I'm not going to try. What happens now is completely in your hands. If you decide to talk to the police then we will support you every step of the way, we will be there for you. I'm not going to lie. I'm not going to patronise you. This is not going to be easy and there is no way I can make it easier for you except by being here."

Through her sobs I thought I heard something but couldn't make it out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Can you say it again."

This time she speaks louder and I flinch at her words.

"I can't do this anymore. I just want it to stop."

I look at Clifford and find the same concern that I feel mirrored in his face.

"Jessica, please don't say that. This is not the end. We are here for you. I promise you. We are here for you."

Silently she looks up at me, and without saying a word she pulls the sleeve of her blouse up. It's a graceful movement, but there's nothing graceful about what's underneath. Row after row of neat, open cuts. Varying states of healing. I could respond with shock or horror, but I know that's not going to help. Instead I look at her arm closely.

"Have you had any of these looked at?" I know what the answer is going to be but at least one of the cuts is showing signs of infection.

She shakes her head as tears fall and I look at Clifford who moves with alarming alacrity. If he's doing what I think he is then the nurse should be hear shortly.

"Jessica, I'm not going to tell you what to do or how you ought to feel. That wouldn't be fair. But this isn't going to help. It hurts. I know. But this is not going to help."

Her shoulders are shaking as she sobs.

"It's too hard. Everything is too hard. I just can't do this. I can't do it."

"Jessica. Believe me. You can get through this and every single one of us will help you. I promise you. Every single one of us. We will not let you down.

Clifford comes back in with the nurse who he has clearly briefed on their route down. I move over to him.

"We need to call her parents. They have to know. She can't do this alone."

He looks at me for a long moment before speaking.

"That was a brave thing you did just then. A very brave thing." He looks briefly over at Jessica. "By all rights I should have your job for it, but you gave these kids something they thought they'd lost. Hope. Belief in themselves. Forgiveness. And Clay was right. You are not to blame for that girl's death any more than they are, any more than all of us are." Pausing, he picks up the resignation letter I had handed him at the beginning of this whole thing. Looking me straight in the eye, he tears it straight down the middle. "I don't want to see that piece of paper in my office again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," I nod through a haze of tears.

"Right then. Now go and have a shower then we'll discuss what we need to do next. There's no way you're talking to the police in that state; they'll think we hire lunatics."

"Yes sir," despite everything, I smile.

"And Jeremy?" I turn back to him. "If you ever pull a stunt like that in my office again without warning me? I swear I'll make you eat your own resignation letter."