“Hi,” I answer, forcing my lips upward. The last thing she needs is to know how deeply her confession affected me. She’s the one living with this. If she can be strong enough to move forward despite it, then I can only do the same, or at least act as if I’m not devastated for her and for all the people who will one day not be able to be in her presence.

“Are you all done?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers as she packs her satchel with her computer and papers.

I peek at my parents. Dad’s eyes are a little droopy, as if the meeting they just had drained him of his energy. His skin is paler than usual, or maybe it’s just the lighting. I would be worried if I didn’t see Ma, who looks calm and happy, next to him. That must mean they received good news, or at least didn’t receive bad news.

“You mind talking for a second?” I ask Wren.

“Sure.” She turns to my parents, then says, “I’ll update you once I receive their official response.”

“Thank you, hon,” Ma says. I don’t know when she switched from “Ms. Lawson” to “Wren” to “hon,” but based on the small rise of Wren’s lips, I’d say our lawyer doesn’t mind.

I lead Wren to the living room, where a fire is burning in the stone alcove.

“So,” we both say at the same time once we’re out of my parents’ hearing range.

With a chuckle, I say, “You go ahead.”

She bobs her head up and down. “I just wanted to start by saying I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last week. I don’t know why I told you about—”

“Hey,” I interrupt. “No need to apologize for anything.” That’s exactly why I tried to not let my emotions show in front of her. Clearly, I failed. “I’m happy you told me.”

She curls her lips behind her teeth.

“This changes nothing,” I add, because really, it doesn’t.

“All right,” she concedes, not appearing to believe me. Clearing her throat, she switches the subject. “So the discussion this morning went well. I laid down all the facts that support your claims and expressed what your family’s intentions are.”

“And what did they say?”

She takes a seat on the arm rest of the leather couch closest to the fireplace. “Well, they couldn’t say much at this point. They need to talk to their client and will get back to us once they’ve decided whether they want to make a settlement offer, which is what will likely happen.”

I scoff. Of course they’d rather make a deal for some amount of money that’s probably nothing to them and just sweep this ordeal under the rug. As if it’s not a human life they fucked with.

“You know,” she says, “this—”