Chapter 12 - Fifty Thousand Dollars
Victoria waited behind an expensive desk. Her attorney sat beside a neat stack of documents.
I had told Sophie where I was and brought the number of the free legal clinic. I wasn't foolish enough to arrive without a way to ask questions.
"You look tired, Emma," Victoria said. "This can all end today."
Her attorney slid a draft agreement toward me. Fifty thousand dollars in exchange for a statement that I had misunderstood the ballroom incident. It also required me not to challenge Harborline's safety records or encourage others to do so.
"My father needs surgery," I said.
"Then you understand the opportunity," Victoria replied.
For one terrible second I imagined Dad walking again, Sophie staying in school, and the rent paid. Fifty thousand dollars looked like rescue when your bank balance was two digits.
"Why mention the vans?" I asked.
Victoria set down her pen. "Because angry people make unreliable witnesses."
"Then this isn't about your wrist."
"Everything is connected when you insist on making trouble."
I stood. Her attorney told me I could take the draft away to review. I did, because a piece of paper showing what they'd offered might be useful to my own counsel. I did not sign.
Outside, I sat on the steps and cried from sheer exhaustion. Sophie answered my call on the first ring.
"I almost did it," I confessed. "For Dad. For you."
"I know," she said. "Come home. I found something on Dad's old phone."
May you like
"What kind of something?"
"A picture he forgot he sent me the night before the accident. Emma, there's a time on it."
