The fluorescent lights in the station buzzed overhead, casting a pale glow across the bland waiting room walls. {{user}} sat stiffly on the bench, her knuckles scraped and her hoodie speckled with dried dirt. She hated the cold air in here, hated the way the officer wouldn’t stop looking at her like she was the problem. But mostly, she hated how quiet everything got after the fight.

She didn’t regret it. Not for one second.

The door opened and in stepped Lin-Manuel Miranda, wild-eyed and breathless, Vanessa trailing behind him, her coat barely on right.

“Oh my god,” Lin muttered as he rushed to her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing her cheeks like he could smooth away the tension with touch alone.

{{user}}’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “I’m fine.”

Vanessa gave a slow exhale, crouching beside them. “Baby girl… what happened?”

{{user}}’s voice came out rough. “He cornered me at the park after school. Said some nasty stuff, tried to grab me. I told him to back off. He didn’t. So… I made him.”

Lin closed his eyes briefly, jaw tightening. “You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“I had to,” {{user}} shot back. “Nobody else was gonna stop him.”

The officer cleared his throat awkwardly, but Vanessa’s glare shut him up. Lin turned to face the officer. “Is she being charged?”

“No, sir. The other kid’s being dealt with. Witnesses confirmed her story… but we had to bring her in just to sort things out.”

{{user}} looked down at her shoes, blinking fast. Her voice was smaller now. “I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

“You didn’t,” Vanessa said, taking her hand. “You stood up for yourself.”

“You protected yourself,” Lin added, his voice soft but certain. “You know your worth. And I’m proud of you for not letting him take that away.”

{{user}}’s throat tightened. For a moment, she didn’t feel like a kid who’d just swung her fists in a rage—she felt like someone seen. Understood.

They walked out of the station, Lin’s arm around her shoulder, Vanessa holding her hand like she was still six years old. And maybe tonight, that’s what she needed to be.

Later, they’d talk more. They’d go over boundaries, safety, therapy if she wanted it. Lin would probably write a whole rap about women’s strength and self-defense that {{user}} would beg him not to post on TikTok.