Rhea Thurman has always been goal-driven despite the tragedies of her past. Her obsession with criminal law leads her to the most prestigious internship in the city, working under up-and-coming lawyer, Davina Jenkins.
But Rhea never prepared to meet...
TW: discussion of suicidal themes Make sure to check out chapter 14 after.
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I loved my birthday once. Not since my fifteenth has it been normal, though.
All week has been hard. Brax's case is only becoming more complex. Davina's determination to win the case seems to only be slipping further away. The evidence, although minimal, may be enough to convict Braxton.
My phone dings with a new text as I reach for it on my nightstand.
Happy birthday, Rhea. Dean x
I bite my lip, feeling tears pooling in the corner of my eyes. I miss my brother tremendously. I hate how conflicting my feelings are when it comes to him. Of course I want him in my life again, but he hurt me so deeply that it's hard to forget.
I'd had another session with Heather Blackwood earlier this week discussing a lot about Dean. She made me aware that I can be the only one who decides when I'm ready to let him in again. No amount of counselling will help me there.
Do you have plans tonight? My roommates are cooking me dinner.
No plans, he replies instantly. What time?
Seven. See u then.
I send him my address before sitting up in bed. I lay my head back against the headboard, staring up at my ceiling fan.
I hope I'm making the right choice. It doesn't mean I have to forgive him straight away, but even allowing him to come to dinner will give him the impression that I'm okay with what he did.
A knock sounds from my bedroom door before Maia and Layla both poke their heads in. When they see that I'm awake, they grin at me before opening the door wider.
"Happy birthday!" Layla squeals, launching herself at my bed as she wraps her arms around me.
I laugh lightly, squeezing her shoulders before she steps back to reveal Maia. In her hands she's holding a plate; two stacked pancakes rest in the middle with a single lit candle.
Maia perches on the side of my bed, placing the plate in my hands. "Happy birthday," she whispers.
The candle reflects on the glassy appearance of her eyes but she blinks as they clear. I often forget that today is just as hard for her.
"Wake a wish," she prompts. I close my eyes, blowing out the single candle.
When I open them again, it's clear that we are both thinking the same thing. Layla begins to talk about the present she got me but my ears are beginning to ring and I stare at the pancakes covered in maple syrup.
I wish to survive this week.
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