Mark grimaced in agreement.

“If the policy states that information about the case is confidential, the leak may be grounds for an appeal,” Wesley said.

“Except that an appeal is handled by basically the same group,” Mark said. “It’s called the adjudicating panel. In addition to Ms. Estavez, it also includes two deans and a faculty member, all specially trained in sensitivity to sexual misconduct.”

“Which apparently means sensitivity to women but not men,” I said.

“What kind of testimony can you give?” Wesley asked. He was a CPA and had been an accountant in the world of business, so he took a practical approach to problem solving.

“Basically, all I can do is tell my side of the story. That’s about it. There won’t be any witnesses because there weren’t any. As I said, I can’t question my accuser. She won’t be present when I am.”

“So it’s your word against hers,” Tess said. “I would believe you before some dippy girl.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Unfortunately, none of you can attend the meeting.”

“How about character witnesses?” I asked, remembering the girl from the Administration Building.

Mark shook his head. “I asked about that. I was told that I might produce a dozen witnesses and they would turn the proceeding into a farce.”

“I’m sure you can produce a hundred character witnesses, but the proceeding is a farce anyway,” Tess said. “And since it’s done in secret, it will be impossible to appeal or correct any bias, intentional or otherwise, on the part of the panel.”

Speaking of bias, it was obvious that we all had the same opinion. I should have invited Priscilla Estavez to give her side of the story. I felt I had a moral obligation to stand in for her. I said, “I understand that the reason for the policy is that students-meaning coeds-had previously found it difficult to file rape charges. They had to cut through a lot of red tape and the college officials tried to downplay problems.”