Recovering Amy (Amy, #2)

Chapter 05: The Impossible

Chapter Five

THE IMPOSSIBLE

-- February --

Amy’s case continued to develop over the next month. The police continued to gather evidence that made the charge of murder even more convincing, weakening the defence that Amy and Sarah would have to argue in the court. But they had to defend their client, at all costs – that was their job. They had to defend the guilty. Some despised them for their job, unable to accept that the mode of trial was “innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt”.

                Amy had long since developed the skill to not become emotionally involved in the cases she worked on, for it had only ended badly. It caused poor development of arguments, and her performance in court had suffered severely. She know knew to act impartially and without emotion, seeing her job as some kind of competition with the prosecution. A tug-of-war. Whoever lost would fall backwards in the mud and be left out to dry. This was the means by which Amy could keep up such a “heartless” profession.

                She had no emotional involvement in the case before her, yet as the prosecution’s case strengthened and Amy’s weakened, she began to stress herself over the case, afraid she would be defeated, but more afraid that she would inadequately perform to the best of her ability. And that was not okay with her.

                Matthew was furious with the amount of energy she was putting into this case. He could see her tired eyes, the way she wrinkled her nose every minute (a sign of her nervousness), and the uncontrollable shaking during her sleep. He feared the welfare of both Amy and their child.

                And so it was on a Friday afternoon in mid-February that his fears were justified. He was home, standing over the stove in the kitchen, cooking a simple meal of spaghetti bolognaise whilst concurrently browsing the web for larger homes, when Amy walked in the front door. She hadn’t called on her way home – which was odd – and when Matthew looked around to greet her, he saw that her eyes were red raw from prolonged crying.

                “Amy?” he asked in shock, abandoning the kitchen and walking over to meet his wife. He held her tightly against his chest, running his fingers through her knotted hair as she cried into his shirt. “What happened? Why didn’t you call?”

                Amy broke away and put her hands gently on her abdomen, her eyes trained on them. She cried some more before meeting Matthew’s puzzled expression.

                “Something’s wrong,” she sobbed. “Something’s wrong with the – the baby. I felt really sick today, and I noticed… bleeding.”

                Matthew pulled her into another hug, a saddened expression upon his features.

                Amy continued. “I should have listened to you,” she wept. “You told me I was stressed out and now look what I’ve done!”

                “Amy, don’t beat yourself up. We don’t know what’s happened yet. I’ll call the hospital after dinner and we’ll make an appointment. How’s that?” In spite of his words, Matthew was already fearing the worst possibility.

                Amy gave a weak nod.

                Matthew moved to continue cooking their spaghetti whilst Amy took a cold shower to calm herself down. When she re-appeared, Matthew was serving up their dinner. They sat at their small dining table, very few words being spoken. Amy wished to be distracted from the thoughts of what she’d done to their baby, but that proved almost impossible.