As more horrific details emerge from the Epstein Files, we cry out, “When will these people face accountability for their crimes?” The sad and likely answer is never. Epstein and his associates have been committing their crimes for decades. At any point, victims could have been believed, law enforcement could have investigated and made arrests, prosecutors could have built cases, and criminals could have received the same punishment as anyone else convicted of the same offense. Unfortunately, the more money and less melanin you have, the more you can get away with. And when you have that much power over government, finance, and culture, there seems to be no limit to the horrors you can commit without repercussions.
We refuse to accept this. We want justice. If we can’t find it in the real world, we look for it in fiction. We want to see worlds where courage conquers cruelty, right actions lead to right results, and compassion and honesty still matter.
We first see these messages in children’s stories. Recently, I discussed Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Gigi Howard for the Drinks in the Library podcast. One of the topics we covered was how each of these children met their fates as a consequence of their actions. The tour of the chocolate factory gave these kids a character test. Augustus, Violet, Veruca, and Mike failed as a result of their vices or the bad parenting they got. Charlie passed the character test and was rewarded for it.
As we get older, our desire for justice expands. We want the evil emperor, president, or wizard to be defeated. We look for a superhero or a chosen one to set the world right. But in adult fiction, we must be more realistic and nuanced. The good guys don’t always win, and the bad guys don’t completely lose. Still, we want to see justice done.
We have several ways we can do that in our stories. I’ll share examples from ones I’ve written. (Spoilers ahead.)
Fall from grace
This is the most common consequence dealt to the rich and powerful, especially celebrities. Bill Cosby, Kevin Spacey, and Neil Gaiman are among the examples of those who tarnished their wholesome or stellar reputations to a point they can never be restored. The loss of revenue and public esteem, the devaluation of their past accomplishments, and their exclusion from social circles and award ceremonies they were welcomed at before—these can be as painful to them as being in prison.
This is what happened to Dylan’s mom and his celebrity pastor stepfather in The Remainders. At the beginning, they lord over Dylan and kick him out of their palatial home for something he did wrong. As the story progresses, the stepfather’s fraud and plagiarism gets exposed. By the end of the story, Dylan finds the love and support he always needed from his father and those he met when he was at his lowest. And his mother finds herself in disgrace, and the pastor’s once bestselling self-help book is a remainder sold for $1 at a dollar store.
Delayed consequences
The mighty don’t always fall right away. The vice becomes its own punishment, eating away at their health and sense of security. They constantly look over their shoulders, cover their tracks, and wallow in paranoia. Whispered rumors make them toxic to be around and do business with. Harvey Weinstein and Dan Schneider already had a bad reputation long before all the facts came out. Eventually, the guilty parties can no longer control the narrative and hide the truth. In some cases, a guilty conscience ruptures and causes them to divulge their crimes themselves.
This is what happens to the Posner men in Amiga. A long history of shady deals and sexual exploitation eventually comes to the surface and leads to each of their downfalls. For a couple of them, they chose to end their own lives rather than be exposed and face a ruined reputation.
Triumph of the victims
Justice isn’t only about punishing the exploiters, it’s helping the exploited. They need restitution, physical and psychological therapy, and the opportunity to rebuild. While they can never recover what was taken from them, they can move forward and make a better life in spite of it. When they find happiness and fulfillment, they can show their tormentors, “You can’t break me!” While punishment and deterrence is important, helping victims triumph is a part of justice.
It’s also the goal of my stories. Characters who suffer injustice overcome it and flourish in the end. In Amiga, Laura and Maria survive abuse and trauma to find personal and career success. In The Remainders, Dylan and his father Oliver reconnect and build new lives for themselves. In the novel I’m writing now, Escape from Arzack’s Castle, Julie defeats the billionaire who has targeted her for exploitation and gains self-respect and love.
Bringing fictional justice to real life
Justice in fiction isn’t wish fulfillment. It’s reaffirming our values. If we want to live in a world where the rich and powerful can’t do whatever they please, and the most vulnerable have rights and protections, we need to reinforce those values through our fiction. If we don’t, oligarchs, white supremacists, and predators will push their narratives in our place.
We’ve also seen where fictional works have changed public opinion, inspired legislation, and became part of political conversation. Even if it changes one person’s perspective, it can lead to a ripple effect that can change others’ minds.
It’s especially important we uphold the value of justice when injustice is spreading and growing stronger. Our fiction reminds people that cruelty and unchecked power is abnormal and unacceptable. Showing courageous and principled heroes triumph over corrupt and selfish villains inspire people to find the courage within themselves to fight for what’s right.
Every story has a message. The message we must give today is that justice is real, and it’s something we must demand. And if we can’t get complete justice from those who harm, we must make sure their victims get the support they need to rebuild their lives. Our fiction can offer the vision of the world as we want it to be. And it can inspire others to bring it to life.




Wonderful piece. I strive for justice and equity in my writing, too. My fictional family of adopted brothers battle injustice almost at every turn. I believe readers like yours and mine see themselves in those struggles.