“I don’t know. I just thought she was on my side.” I hang my head.

“The only person on your side is me.” She folds her arms in front of her chest and taps her heel on the floor.

“I know.”

“Your antics have given the prosecution so much ammo. You’ve made yourself look like an imbecile, like a wild animal that would do anything—even kill—to get his way.” Sarah shakes her head.

“What can I do to make this right?” My eyes fill with tears. How could I have been so stupid?

“You can go to prison. You can keep to your fucking self, and you can stay there until your trial is over.” She picks up her bag and throws it over her shoulder.

I don’t say anything. I just nod. She walks to the door and before she exits, she turns back to me. “Adam.”

I look at Sarah hoping her words will be kind. Hoping she’ll forgive me and understand where I was coming from and what I was doing even as dumb as it was.

“I guess someone else might advise you to start praying in this situation because you’re going to need a miracle to get out of this. But you know I don’t believe in God, so you’re on your own for the time being.” She leaves, letting the door close behind her.

59. Sarah Morgan

59

Sarah Morgan

I can’t do this shit anymore. The chips just keep stacking up against me. I close the car door and enter the dimly lit office building. It’s late, but Anne said Matthew had a courier deliver a package earlier: the DNA results are waiting for me on my desk.

I can hear the buzzing of a vacuum cleaner. The only ones here this late are the cleaners. It’s past 9pm. The trial begins on Monday. I ride the elevator up to the fourteenth floor. Motion sensor lights flicker on as I walk.

Before I make it to my office, my phone rings. I scramble to find it in my purse and without looking, I answer it quickly just to silence it.

“What’s this that a mother can’t visit her own son in prison?” Eleanor seethes.

I regret not looking at the caller ID before taking this call. “His visiting privileges were revoked due to his escape.”

“That’s nonsense. When do I get to see him?”

“You can see him on trial days, but you won’t be able to speak with him.”

“You’ve mishandled this whole thing, Sarah. I don’t know how you got to where you are! You screw up all the time. I have half the nerve to report you to the bar, and they’ll—” I hang up. I go to her contact information page and tap block this caller. I let out a sigh of relief, dropping the phone back into my purse.