Blindly, I reach for the next file. It's red. That's not good. Stanley's Law, the prestigious family law firm, color codes their client folders according to the priority level of their client's needs. Tempted to grab another green file like Mr. Delgado's, I refrain. There's a reason files are in a particular order. Mr. Delgado's green file was high on the stack because of his affiliation with some of our company sponsors. Sorry Mr. Stanley, the direction that case is going may not turn out to be a happy ending. I took an oath and must uphold it even if my employer doesn't like the outcome.
A soft knock sounds just before my boss' head peeks around the office door I had left cracked open. "Mrs. Stanley." I stand offering my full attention.
Her warm smile is comforting as she enters holding files in her arms. "How are you doing today?" she asks genuinely.
"I'm well, thank you," I respond, knowing she isn't expecting me to return pleasantries. She's a 'to the point' woman, and small talk always annoys her unless solicited.
She takes a seat in one of the two chairs on the opposite side of my desk. Placing the files down gently, she waits for me to take a seat. "You've done very well for yourself over the last year," pausing in her praise, she briefly glances down and then back up locking gazes with me, "and I was thinking of giving you something a little more challenging," she finishes. I raise my eyebrows curious about the possibility of what this might mean.
She sifts through the pile, settling on a red file. My heart rate increases a little. Mrs. Stanley lifts the file, rests it against her chin, and studies me for a beat. She taps it several times, seemingly to process something internally. "I've been brought this case and would like to get your opinion. Once you've had a chance to review everything, I'd like to sit down and talk about it." She sighs before continuing, "I'll be honest, Meredith, it's not pretty. But if I were to choose anyone to review this, it's you." A small smile touches her lips.
I swallow the knot lodged in my throat and force myself to return her smile. "Absolutely, I'm honored." I reach across to accept the opportunity. "When would you like me to have notes ready?"
She eyes my desk taking notice of the files I still need to review. "Well," she stands hovering over my desk, "let's turn these over to someone else." She reaches, lifting all of my case files before setting them in the chair to her left. Little does she know she lifted my spirits in the process. "I believe this will help your caseload..." she trails off raising an eyebrow as she returns to the chair.
"Wow, okay," I reply, with a half chuckle surprised by her actions.
"Do you think a week is sufficient time?"
I fight the hard knot again and lift my chin, "Yes, ma'am. I will begin immediately." I say with feigned confidence, hoping she doesn't notice the slight crack in my voice. My face heats, and it feels as if I'm sweating everywhere.
"Wonderful. Let's plan on grabbing lunch next Friday to go over any theories you may have." She stands to turn toward the door. "Oh, before I go," she begins whipping back around, "remember the bar-bench conference is in two weeks." I open my mouth to object, but she continues. "I know you've got a lot going on Meredith, but I'd much appreciate you attending this year's conference."
She smiles and takes a few steps back inside my office, "I took the liberty of reserving your spot last month." I start to object glancing down at my desk, "Before you say anything, I want you to know Robert, and I think it would do you some good to get out and away if only for a few days." The underlying message is loud and clear from Mr. and Mrs. Stanley.
I nod, accepting fate and watch her lean frame retreat through my office door. Once I heard the slight click of the door, I plop into my chair and take a calming breath. Wait until I tell Anna. She's going to be beside herself. I've gotten out of going every year especially since they switched the conference from catering to new attorneys to seasoned ones as well.
Crap, I forgot to give her a heads up about the Delgado case.
After a beat, I open the thick red folder. Lots of testimonies, investigation reports not only from the States but Mexico too. Oh god. Sifting through the crime scene photos a pair of vaguely familiar eyes return to the forefront. I stumble back as my chair rolls to a stop against the credenza — muscles in my abdomen close-in like tight coils. My stomach lurches bile. I make it just in time to empty the all-consuming fear into the white porcelain bowl. Black spots disrupt my vision while sweat beads to the surface of my skin. The heat is making it harder to breathe. I gasp for air not knowing if my body can handle the air or if it's the familiarity of the case it fears. Grabbing some toilet paper, I wipe my mouth with shaky hands. I can't help sinking to the floor completely numb.
The images seize terror on my memory. Did she somehow find out? No, I shake my head. There's no way. Uncle Theo made sure of it.
The hauntingly familiarity is shocking, and my body trembles at the recognition. I squeeze my eyes immediately regretting the action. My past collides with my future. It's everything I can do to stop rocking and bring myself to stand. I went into this job headfirst. It's the closest thing I could do to find closure. I can't bare someone unable to get the justice needed to right the wrongs of what happened to them. Pushing myself forward, something I've grown accustomed to, I brush the pain aside and quickly wash up.
The reflection staring back has changed so much over the years. Looking up, I pause at the image reflected in the mirror. What do I do? Can I pass this file onto another colleague without consequences? Shaking my head, no. It will raise suspicion with Mrs. Stanley. Especially if there is already any suspicion, to begin.
I wonder if the woman who has escaped the shadowy gloom of reality and instead immersed herself in school and a career can honestly take on a case like this — a case that may have me questioning everything and fighting not to go back there, to that place in time.
My fingers trace the outline of the contrasting reflection. The woman staring back at me certainly looks as if she can handle it. She's strong enough to fight. She's been doing it for so long now. But the person looking at the image doesn't feel as confident. Memories surface again. Before they grab hold taking me down, I quickly turn and walk out. Returning to my office, I take a seat and dive back into the hell of this file. With trembling fingers, I realize it's a lost cause. Forget this.
I need to avoid the testimony and photos like the plague. Coming to the terms that I will not deal with this now, I slam the papers shut wondering if I'll ever be the girl I was before it happened. I miss her among so many others.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I'll try again.
YOU ARE READING
Revengeance
Mystery / ThrillerFor the past six years. The images return. They're uninvited. Unwanted. One might think she should expect it by now. But that would mean she's accepted fate. Meredith chooses to live in an illusion. A charade. Deceiving herself from the truth that s...
