“My mother’s dead, and he’s dead, too.” Lane’s voice became toneless. “All that’s left is the money and I know it’s stupid, but I can’t s-stop thinking that if t-there wasn’t any money to begin with, then m-maybe everyone would still be alive. Maybe e-everyone would still be a-alive...and happy.”
NORMAN MORTIMER KNOCKED on the door of his daughter’s office but didn’t wait for her to answer, opening it and thus catching Nellie unaware. She was seated behind her table, eyes swollen with tears and her makeup completely ruined.
“I hate you.” But his daughter sounded more weary than furious.
Norman looked around the office. “Where’s your client?”
“She’s gone.” Nellie’s normally sophisticatedly sweet voice was harsh. “You really thought you’d get what you want? You’ll make me like you?” Nellie shook her head even as her heart cracked. “Someone who spends his entire life doing charity work, to the point of ignoring his own daughter’s existence?”
Norman’s heart sank. “You turned her away.”
“Because of you.” Nellie refused to acknowledge the way her heart kept breaking. “I told her I’m not the best person for her case and I’ll look for someone else to take over.”
Norman didn’t speak for a long time.
Nellie’s fists clenched and unclenched. She forced herself to remember all the nights she had cried herself to sleep, the way her dad kept breaking his promises to be there. On her birthdays. Her recitals. Or even just to read her a bedtime story. She had cried so much that in the end, all the tears inside her had dried.
Or so she had thought...until now.
Her father was still standing in front of her, and the way he gazed at Nellie made her sneer. “You didn’t win, Daddy. I’m still the bitch you made me to be.” She waited for him to yell at her, to fly into a rage like he always did.
But all he did was smile sadly.
“I never thought you were a bitch. Never will. You’ll always be Daddy’s little girl, and when I learned about Ms. Petersen’s case, I knew you were the only one who could help her.”
“Because she’s my ticket to heaven?” she asked snidely even as the urge to cry came back at her father’s unexpected words.
“Because I saw you in her, the way you were when you were young. Your mother kept telling you my work was more important than my family, but you refused to listen to her...even if back then she had been right. You still insisted on waiting up for me, until you fell asleep on the bottom of the stairs, and I’d come home to find your cheeks wet with your—-”
“Shut up, Dad.” She stalked to the windows, turning her back on him, not wanting her dad to see her face.
“Laura Petersen may have been a prostitute her entire life, but she’s a damn better parent than I ever was. She succeeded where I failed.” Her dad’s voice became gruff. “But Laura’s gone and I think...”
Nellie knew Norman was waiting for her to speak, but she refused to acknowledge in any way that she had heard his words.
“I think only someone like you, someone who was hurt the same way, can make sure Lane’s alright.”
HOPE WAS LIKE THE LAST drops of water in a nearly empty glass, but Lane Petersen fought to see it in another way. Hope still existed, the glass was still filled, and that was what mattered.
The rest of her life stretched before her, terrifying in its blankness.
But still, Lane refused to be defeated.
Her mother Laura was now her guardian angel, and she refused to believe that God and Laura would ever let her down. Together, those two were unbeatable—-
An icy cold wind slapped her face as if Hell was challenging her, but Lane only pulled her thin coat around her more tightly.
Winter was coming, she though randomly, tempting Lane into hysterics.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. It’s not going to be the end of the world. I’m going to be okay. I—-
Someone tapped her from behind.
—-ended up jumping three feet in the air.
Lane spun around.
A guy in a suit was standing behind her, looking harried. “Lane Petersen?”
She didn’t answer, suspicious and wary.
“You are Lane Petersen, right? Ms. Mortimer wanted me to give you this.” He handed her an envelope.
A letter?
She accepted it with suddenly trembling hands, and the trembling only worsened as she opened the envelope and took out the note inside it.
Dear Ms. Petersen,
Forgive my lapse of judgment, but also allow me a moment to speak the unvarnished truth with you. I’m just about the most cynical and selfish woman in the world. I don’t do affection and I don’t even like rainbows or the Care Bears.
If, after knowing this, you still think I’m a good fit, then it would be my honor to represent your case and regardless of the results, I would like to give you my personal assurance that you have nothing to worry about. I will do my utmost best to ensure that you have the means to start over.