plane.
She stood. “I just wanted to say thanks for your kindness. For putting me in touch with Skye. I have to leave if I’m going to catch my plane.”
Cory stood and walked her to the door, but her arms remained crossed, signaling the new distance between them. “Good luck to you and Eric.”
“Thanks, but I think we’ll need a little more than luck to get us through.” Serena turned and strode back down the hall. She was almost out the front door of the clinic when she realized Skye was at her side. She didn’t say a word as Skye accompanied her to her car and took the keys from her shaking hand.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Serena sighed. “It’s all so hard.” A vague, but all-encompassing statement.
“Yes. It is. Too bad Cory’s not working on Eric’s case. I think she’d be great.”
“You do?” The question was a throwaway. She didn’t want to talk about Cory anymore, but then again, she did. She hung on Skye’s next words.
“I do. As a prosecutor, she has a unique perspective. Who better to know what the state should have done, didn’t do, and may have hidden from the defense? I know my experience as a—”
Serena cut her off mid-sentence. “What you said about Cory—did you mean she’s a former prosecutor?”
Skye looked first puzzled, then uncomfortable with the question. “Well, I may have spoken out of turn. Cory’s on leave from the DA’s office. Maybe you should talk to her about her specific situation.”
Or maybe not. Serena had heard enough. Cory worked for the other side. No wonder she wouldn’t be working on Eric’s case. Representing the downtrodden wasn’t her thing. What was she doing here at the clinic? Serena wanted to know and she didn’t. She’d trusted her. Why? Because she’d mistaken her own attraction for something more on Cory’s part. She’d been a fool.
Time to leave. Go back home. Try to assume some normalcy in her life. As if that were possible with Eric’s death looming and newly awakened feelings stirring in her soul. Being miles away would make the difference. She hoped.
Chapter Eight
Three weeks in and Cory couldn’t wait for the end of her sentence. It wasn’t the atmosphere. Everyone at the clinic had been nice to her, but the work was draining, and not in a way she was used to. Every day, all she did was read submissions and scale them. She was the gatekeeper, but she didn’t feel a part of the process. While the activity of reading each packet and grading it on a scale of priorities was rote, the substance behind it was what was really wearing her out.
Every letter requested the same thing—help. A last chance. Desperation poured off the pages. It didn’t matter that she worked for the other side. The desperate pleas would penetrate even the hardest heart. She’d begun to dream about the cases that consumed her days. Dark dreams with inmates reaching through bars, clawing at her as she walked the corridors of the penitentiary.
Completely unrealistic dreams. She’d have no personal contact with these people. Just like when she was a prosecutor, she would have a shield between her and the person she sought to put away. Except she had had personal contact with one of them. Even though she wouldn’t be working on Eric’s file, she’d reviewed it in-depth. On some level, she felt she owed it to Serena to know all the facts in case she ever saw her again, in case Serena ever asked. She’d known Serena had only been in town for a day or two, but her departure had still seemed abrupt. Her number was in the file. Cory could call her, feign some case-related reason to talk, but what would be the point? Their brief encounter wasn’t real. She knew better. Whatever feelings had passed between them had more to do with circumstance than reality.
Besides, she’d be back at the job soon enough. Julie had promised, and despite the complicated mix of feelings she had toward Julie, she knew she didn’t make idle promises. Two
She stood. “I just wanted to say thanks for your kindness. For putting me in touch with Skye. I have to leave if I’m going to catch my plane.”
Cory stood and walked her to the door, but her arms remained crossed, signaling the new distance between them. “Good luck to you and Eric.”
“Thanks, but I think we’ll need a little more than luck to get us through.” Serena turned and strode back down the hall. She was almost out the front door of the clinic when she realized Skye was at her side. She didn’t say a word as Skye accompanied her to her car and took the keys from her shaking hand.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Serena sighed. “It’s all so hard.” A vague, but all-encompassing statement.
“Yes. It is. Too bad Cory’s not working on Eric’s case. I think she’d be great.”
“You do?” The question was a throwaway. She didn’t want to talk about Cory anymore, but then again, she did. She hung on Skye’s next words.
“I do. As a prosecutor, she has a unique perspective. Who better to know what the state should have done, didn’t do, and may have hidden from the defense? I know my experience as a—”
Serena cut her off mid-sentence. “What you said about Cory—did you mean she’s a former prosecutor?”
Skye looked first puzzled, then uncomfortable with the question. “Well, I may have spoken out of turn. Cory’s on leave from the DA’s office. Maybe you should talk to her about her specific situation.”
Or maybe not. Serena had heard enough. Cory worked for the other side. No wonder she wouldn’t be working on Eric’s case. Representing the downtrodden wasn’t her thing. What was she doing here at the clinic? Serena wanted to know and she didn’t. She’d trusted her. Why? Because she’d mistaken her own attraction for something more on Cory’s part. She’d been a fool.
Time to leave. Go back home. Try to assume some normalcy in her life. As if that were possible with Eric’s death looming and newly awakened feelings stirring in her soul. Being miles away would make the difference. She hoped.
Chapter Eight
Three weeks in and Cory couldn’t wait for the end of her sentence. It wasn’t the atmosphere. Everyone at the clinic had been nice to her, but the work was draining, and not in a way she was used to. Every day, all she did was read submissions and scale them. She was the gatekeeper, but she didn’t feel a part of the process. While the activity of reading each packet and grading it on a scale of priorities was rote, the substance behind it was what was really wearing her out.
Every letter requested the same thing—help. A last chance. Desperation poured off the pages. It didn’t matter that she worked for the other side. The desperate pleas would penetrate even the hardest heart. She’d begun to dream about the cases that consumed her days. Dark dreams with inmates reaching through bars, clawing at her as she walked the corridors of the penitentiary.
Completely unrealistic dreams. She’d have no personal contact with these people. Just like when she was a prosecutor, she would have a shield between her and the person she sought to put away. Except she had had personal contact with one of them. Even though she wouldn’t be working on Eric’s file, she’d reviewed it in-depth. On some level, she felt she owed it to Serena to know all the facts in case she ever saw her again, in case Serena ever asked. She’d known Serena had only been in town for a day or two, but her departure had still seemed abrupt. Her number was in the file. Cory could call her, feign some case-related reason to talk, but what would be the point? Their brief encounter wasn’t real. She knew better. Whatever feelings had passed between them had more to do with circumstance than reality.
Besides, she’d be back at the job soon enough. Julie had promised, and despite the complicated mix of feelings she had toward Julie, she knew she didn’t make idle promises. Two
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