up. “She came inside to use the ladies’ room and to tell me that her sister—a lawyer—was on her way down from Vermont.”
That’s helped me relax. I already knew Daphne was sharp. She probably hates my guts right now, and I don’t blame her. But at least she called her family instead of letting fear and anger get the best of her.
Not that I can say the same. Beating on Halsey was a stupid ass thing to do. So fucking stupid. I completely lost my shit. And, yeah, my reasons were solid. But they don’t matter very much right now.
If I’m convicted of assault, I can kiss my career as a clinical psychologist goodbye. It’s pretty much a given that no state would want to license a violent felon. And no graduate program will want to take me on, either.
So this is what it looks like to hit bottom. It looks like screwing your own future. It looks like letting the Reardon Halseys of the world win.
Daphne was right. I should have leveled with her about my brand-new realizations. And I never should have come to Connecticut. But I couldn’t quite put it together without proof. I wanted to see his face in person. I wanted to take measure of my own reaction. I wanted to walk toward the flame even if it burned.
But it burned too hot. I snapped. And now I’ll pay the price. I’ll lose my career path. I’ll probably lose Dylan. And I’ll probably lose Daphne. That’s the worst part of all.
Hell, I might be starting over in a new place. Again. And this time my memory won’t fail. So I’ll be able to recall every single foolish thing I did, and every opportunity I’ve squandered.
I close my eyes and finally nod off.
And for once, that big fucking lock on the door of this cell isn’t making it easier to sleep.
When I wake up, a uniformed officer is unlocking the door. At least it’s not the guy who punched me. It’s a new guy. My neck is so stiff I can barely lift my head to look at him. “Your counsel is here,” he says.
I get up slowly and follow him into an interview room, where a guy in a suit waits. “I’m your lawyer,” he says without preamble. “And I’d like some time with my client.”
“You got fifteen minutes,” the officer says. Then he leaves, closing the door behind himself.
“Don’t tell me anything,” the lawyer whispers. He’s wearing a very natty pinstripe suit.
“Okay?” I’m so confused right now. “Who are you?”
“Robert Grant, attorney at law. Your father hired me on the advice of May Shipley.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say automatically, and my voice sounds all wrong because of my swollen nose. “So if I’m not supposed to talk to you, then who…?”
“Sit down. Your nose looks broken.”
“I noticed that. It wasn’t broken until my arrest.”
“Shit. Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to listen to my advice. I may ask you a question or two. But we can’t assume this conversation is private.”
“Oh.” I can’t help but glance around at the four solid walls surrounding us. There must be cameras in here?
I sit down, and my lawyer does the same. “Look, the charge against you is aggravated assault. But the state’s attorney is offering to plead down to simple assault. He says we have an hour to decide.”
“Really?” I feel dizzy with hope. Or maybe that’s just hunger and exhaustion. “Is simple assault a misdemeanor?”
“Yes.”
“Then—”
He holds up a hand. “You’re not speaking. You're listening.”
I sigh.
“Look, most cases I get called on are boring. There’s a bar fight. Somebody gets arrested. They set bail at the arraignment, or maybe I can wheedle a plea deal out of the busy state’s attorney because it’s a first offense and they don’t want to clog the docket with boring little cases. But your case is different.”
“I bet it is,” I grunt. Not everybody mauls a senator’s son in a public place, on the campus of a vaunted university.
“Look, my phone is blowing up with messages from the state’s attorney’s office. They're panting for you to plead this down. That is not how this usually works.” He grins.
But I don’t see what’s so amusing. “Is that good?”
“Yeah, I think it is. I can think of a couple reasons why they’re so hot to trot. The first reason is that maybe you’re not guilty. Maybe you were defending yourself against an attack from the senator's son. Maybe they arrested