Checkmate

34

   Gazing up at the star-spangled sky, I welcomed the burn of warm vapor and held in a cough, savoring the dizzying sensation I sought when I came out here. Below me, the city was alive. Traffic was heavy but was slowly coming down as the minutes ticked further and further away from rush hour. Soon, the night crowd would take over the streets, partying away the worries and stresses of life.

   With jittering fingers, I brought the cigarette back to my lips, my thoughts wandering back to the events of the day. This time I did cough, the pathetic sound exposing to the world the extent of my troubles. Below, in front of the building, a few heads veered up to look at me. I knew I should've gone on the roof, but the breakroom balcony was a lot closer and was usually vacant at this time of day. After being walked in on a couple of times, I realized my mistake. My attempt to keep a low profile was blown, and word of my pity party had probably spread around the building like wildfire.

Half an hour ago, I probably would've been embarrassed by my conduct and the sympathetic glances being sent my way. However, I was too relaxed to care, my mind only grounded by the events of the last few hours.

Four Hours Earlier

"We have to back down, don't we?" Erin sounded resigned as she spoke those words.

My hands balled into fists in my lap as I watched her profile.

   Two hours ago we were informed by Dr. Evan's assistant, our next witness, that he had suffered a stroke. Our expert witness's testimony was out of the question. Given this was his second stroke this year, the possibility for long-term brain damage was very likely. Last we heard, he was still in surgery, that was about an hour before Erin was contacted by my team and asked to come by for an emergency meeting.

   The very slight sparkle of hope that'd shined in her eyes this morning had been replaced by empty hopelessness even before I delivered the news. Our talk in the car had been enough to help keep her head up, but the way her head hung and she slouched in the chair next to me, it was clear their effect had been limited and instantly overthrown by the crushing reality of this discussion.

She looked at me after a few minutes of exchanged silence. Her brown eyes were dull, seeking the confirmation she already had accepted.

I pressed my lips together, giving her a sympathetic look.

She understood the wordless message, and her lips began to quiver as she went back to gazing at her lap.

"Did we ever stand a chance?" she sniffled, and my heart broke further.

"Erin..." she cut me off before I got a word in, her eyes blazing with rage that fueled her sorrow.

"Be honest, Kimberly. Don't give me one of those rehearsed answers. I want the truth," she crocked, her words getting stuck in her throat as her tears began to stream faster down her face.

I swallow hard.

She wasn't screaming, merely raising her voice, a bewildered air to her demeanor.

I nodded my head, staying as professional as I could be at that moment, and stared her in the eyes as I said, "With Dr. Evans's testimony, I have no doubt we would've reached our goal."

I meant those words, I knew them to be true. There was no other way to prove that Mr. O'Day acted out of malice if not by exposing the man he was behind closed doors.