Sleeping Beauty by Phillip Margolin

had changed inside her. She was still sad but she knew she didn’t want to die. She was tired of feeling sorry for herself, and there were things she had to do, like taking care of her mother’s funeral. The thought made her tear up. She knew she could break down if she didn’t fight, so she took a deep breath and inhaled the rancid odor of days-old sweat.
    Ashley’s nose wrinkled. Her body odor hadn’t bothered her before. She had not had the energy or will to bathe anyway. But this morning the smell repelled her. Ashley stared at herself in the mirror over her dresser. She looked awful. Her hair was tangled and unkempt, she’d lost weight, there were dark shadows under her eyes.
    The shower was in a communal women’s bathroom near the stairs. Ashley remembered the police guard. She put on her sweats, grabbed her toiletries, said hello to the guard, and shuffled down the hall.
    The hot shower helped. It was short because she did not feel right luxuriating in it with her mother and father dead. Guilt would keep her from enjoying a lot of things for a while. But she could not avoid the pleasant feeling of being clean and having smooth, untangled hair.
    Ashley returned to her room. She had just dressed in a fresh Eisenhower High T-shirt and shorts when the police guard knocked on her door. The knock was tentative. Everyone was still walking on eggs around her.
    â€œMiss Spencer?”
    â€œYes?”
    The door opened a crack and the policeman stuck his head in. “There’s a Mr. Philips here to see you. He says he’s your lawyer.”
    Ashley didn’t know anyone named Philips and she was certain that she did not have a lawyer, but she welcomed the novelty of a visitor. The policeman stepped back and a young man slipped past him. He was about Ashley’s height and slender, with pale blue eyes and shaggy light brown hair. The lawyer was wearing a business suit, white shirt, and tie, but Ashley thought he could still pass for someone in high school.
    â€œMiss Spencer, I’m Jerry Philips. I’m an attorney.”
    Philips held out a business card. Ashley hesitated before crossing the room to take it. The lawyer gestured toward a chair. “May I?”
    â€œSure, okay.”
    Ashley sat on the bed and examined the business card. Jerry Philips sat down and balanced his briefcase on his knees.
    â€œI want you to know how sorry I am about your folks.” The young lawyer looked down and Ashley saw him swallow. “My mother died a few years ago and my father died shortly before your father…passed away. So I have an idea of what you’re going through.”
    Now it was Ashley’s turn to feel uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
    Philips smiled sadly. “That seems to be the opening line for a lot of people I’ve met since Dad passed away. I’m sure you’ve heard it a lot, too.” He laughed self-consciously. “I just said ‘I’m sorry,’ didn’t I?”
    Ashley was growing impatient. The lawyer seemed like a nice person but she didn’t want to discuss the death of her parents or hear about his tragedy.
    â€œMr. Philips, why are you here?”
    â€œRight. I should come to the point. Did your mother or father ever mention my father, Ken Philips?”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œHe was a lawyer, too. He was partially retired and living in Boulder Creek in central Oregon. Your mother and father were two of the clients he was still handling. Dad wrote their wills.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œI thought you’d like to know how you stand financially.”
    Ashley suddenly realized that she had no idea how she would feed herself or whether she could afford a place to stay once she left the Academy. While her parents were alive, Ashley had the luxury of going to school, playing soccer, and having a good time without worrying how to pay for anything. All that had