She bows her head and begins to back out of my office, fully defeated.

“Anne, stop,” I call to her. She lifts her head, and I see hope in her eyes. I should let her go. I should let her quit all by herself. It’ll save the firm money. It’ll save me the headache. But I know she meant well. I know at the end of the day, she is loyal to me. And whether I like it or not, I still need her. I don’t have time to find another assistant in the middle of this trial.

“Is Bob in the office this morning?”

“Yes, he is, would you like me to call for him?”

“No. Not yet, Anne. But in the meantime, please set up a meeting with D.A. Peters for later this afternoon.” Anne smiles at me and nods and turns to walk out the door. “And, Anne,” I add.

“Yes, Sarah?” she asks with all the anticipatory excitement of a puppy waiting for a command.

“From this point on, until I’m ready, you are just my assistant.” I let the words hang heavy as I swivel my chair away from her.

“Yes, Mrs. Morgan,” she murmurs as she leaves my office.

My phone buzzes, and I pick it up. A text from Eleanor:

We still have to work together for my son, but I’m not keen on seeing you anytime soon. Your words were vile, and I apologize for allowing them to get the best of me.

I toss the phone on the desk without a response.

54. Adam Morgan

54

Adam Morgan

My feet are absolutely killing me. I can’t even begin to guess how many miles I have walked. Last night, after I left the station, I just started walking, knowing I would have to get as far away as I could. Putting a significant distance between myself and the station would be important, but so would getting out of my orange jumpsuit and finding some shelter, all while avoiding main roadways.

A few hours into my escape it began to rain. Of course, it started to rain. I had underestimated how far out in the middle of nowhere the station truly was, and after what felt like at least five miles of walking, I still had yet to run into a house, or store, or any car I felt comfortable enough to flag down.

I then remembered that Rebecca had said she lived locally. I mean she did write for the county paper after all. I thought that if I could just find a map, I might be able to figure out where the fuck I am.

As the pitch black of a starless and rainy night settled into its darkest point, I realized that as there were no street lamps, I had no real idea where I was going.