Deena nodded slowly, then smiled. “I’d better get going. Can’t miss my flight.” She turned to go but stopped and opened her purse. “Oh, I almost forgot. Dr. Wong came by the firm last week. She didn’t know that you’d left. She asked me to give this to you.”
Deena withdrew a small white box wrapped with a red ribbon. There was no card.
Taking the box, Caroline raised an eyebrow.
Deena shook her head.
Caroline opened the box.
Cradled in the white cotton padding, she found a new strand of komboloi beads. Onyx black and smooth, they were slightly smaller than the strand she’d sacrificed at the courthouse. She lifted the beads from the box and looped them over her hand. She flipped them over. Then again. They worked as well as the old ones had.
“You really are an odd duck,” Deena said.
Looking at Deena stuffed like a sausage into her fuchsia miniskirt, Caroline smirked.
“Do you think you’ll go back to Hale Stern once you’ve sorted out your family stuff?” Deena asked.
“No. Without Louis, it just wouldn’t be the same,” Caroline answered, giving an explanation that she knew was both true and misleading in equal measures. “I still need to decide on my next move.”
“Whatever you do, it’ll be great,” Deena said, smiling. “Did you hear Med-Gen set up a huge settlement fund? It’s even bigger than the Steering Committee thought it would be. All of the victims will be compensated and then some.”
“I hadn’t heard that. Wow. That’s great,” Caroline said, her chest flushing with warmth.
“It sure is,” Deena said. She stepped forward and hugged Caroline, then withdrew.
Even after the sound of the town car had receded into the neighborhood, Caroline remained on the porch. Soon the requirements of life and lunch would draw her back inside, but for now, she wanted to enjoy the quiet.
She knew she needed to find another job. She had student loans to pay off. She had her mother’s house to escape. But she needed to get the job thing right this time.
Sitting down on the railing of the porch, she considered her errors.
She couldn’t believe she’d craved Louis’s approval. What a terrible miscalculation. What an obvious displacement of affection. If she needed a father figure, she could reconcile with her own father. She didn’t need to worship some creepy, psychopathic, wannabe blue-blooded fixer.
Bitterness rose in her throat, dull and metallic. But she knew the tang of disappointment covered something deeper. Something more problematic.
Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a small figurine. Cool and smooth in her hand, the black pawn reflected the afternoon light. She’d carried it with her every day since she’d left Hale Stern. Its weight in her pocket felt like an indictment. A reminder of what she’d been. Of what she’d done. Of what she’d almost become.
Caroline ran her fingers over the smooth ball at the top of the statuette.
Louis had been a strong mentor in one way: he’d exposed who she really was. He’d shown her that despite leaving tech, she hadn’t escaped the more sinister aspects of her nature. The thorny truth was that he hadn’t been wrong about her. She enjoyed the dark thrills. Of hacking. Of prying. Of manipulating. She liked discovering people’s secrets. She found joy in outsmarting firewalls and security systems. And she was good at it.
And yet, her survival, both physically and morally, despite Louis’s mentorship, was itself some kind of statement of strength, wasn’t it? Plus, she’d helped win a case that mattered greatly to a great many people.
For the first time since she’d walked out of Hale Stern, Caroline let herself feel something other than consternation about her law career. Things hadn’t gone as planned, but she’d still done some good, hadn’t she? Taking part in the grand struggle of humanity had been one reason she’d left the world of tech. While she might have gotten banged up in her first foray, she’d made a difference.
But what now? Could she really go to another firm?
She knew she’d never be able to trust another mentor. She’d have to rely on herself.
So then, perhaps she should go out on her own? She could hang out a shingle and take whatever clients she could find . . . as a first-year lawyer . . . fresh out of law school. The idea was daunting. And yet, whatever happened couldn’t be worse than what had already happened to her. Reams of practice guides existed to teach lawyers the rules, the levers to pull. She’d figure it out. And she’d do some more good. Wherever she could. However she could.
In the meanwhile, she’d have to be patient. She’d just have to tolerate living in her childhood house a little longer . . .
Caroline exhaled.
There were no perfect answers.
Gently, almost reverently, she placed the pawn on the porch’s railing.
The dark souvenir looked back at her, faceless and small.
Caroline walked back inside the house.
The porch door closed behind her with a snap of finality.