“Are you okay?” I ask. She gags, hands her coffee to Anne, and runs to a nearby garbage can in the lobby and throws up. Anne rushes to her side and rubs her back, asking her if she needs anything or if she should reschedule. Sarah shakes her head and scurries off to the bathroom.

“She’ll be right back,” Anne says walking over to me.

“Is she okay? What’s wrong with her?” I’m concerned not only for my wife but if she’ll be able to handle this hearing.

“I don’t think she can handle this case. We should shop around,” Mom whispers into my ear.

“Stop, Mom.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Anne says.

“Maybe you should go help her,” Mom says to Anne, shooing her away. “Sarah’s clearly not strong enough on her own.”

27. Sarah Morgan

27

Sarah Morgan

I walk out of the bathroom stall and splash some water on my face. I take my makeup bag from my tote, re-powder my face, swish around some mouthwash, and reapply my lip gloss. I feel fine now, but I don’t know what came over me—the stress of this case, poor nutrition, inadequate sleep, or fucking Eleanor. I have to pull it together. I pat down my hair and smooth away any flyaways.

Pulling out my phone, I text Anne—I’m fine. Must have had something that didn’t agree with me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.

I give myself a once-over in the mirror, straightening out my top and skirt and tightening my ponytail. I pick up my bag and walk out of the bathroom, running smack bang into District Attorney Josh Peters. The coffee he’s holding spills all over the both of us, and we both apologize to one another.

“Sarah, I’m sorry,” D.A. Peters says.

“No, I’m sorry, Josh.”

“Wait right here.” He dips into the men’s bathroom. He comes out moments later with a wad of paper towels. He hands me half, and we both wipe and dab at the coffee. His white button-up shirt is stained, but it’s hard to even see where the coffee was spilled on his black pants and jacket. I find myself glancing up at him as we blot ourselves. He’s in his mid-thirties and overqualified for the job he’s in. He could have gone into corporate law or defense, but his moral compass kept him in the public sector.

We finish getting as cleaned up as possible. D.A. Peters even wipes up the spilled coffee on the floor and then collects the soiled towels. He disappears into the bathroom and returns a moment later carrying just his briefcase.