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...
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"We need to talk."
I'm throwing things into my handbag — my wallet, keys, phone, my name tag — when I peer over at Xavier, standing in the doorway. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, waiting for him to continue.
"About?" I offer, when he doesn't say anything more.
I reach under Sofía's bed for my jacket, throwing it on over my work clothes. I tie my hair back quickly, pulling it into a low pony. Strands of hair fall out instantly, framing my face.
"About what we spoke about in the cemetery."
I sigh, throwing my bag over my shoulder. "I should get to work—"
"You don't start for another hour an a half."
"How do you— actually, I'd rather not know, stalker," I glare. "I don't want to have this conversation again, Xavier. You know how I feel."
I move past him in the doorway. He follows me down the hallway, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the living room before I can make it to the door.
"If you're going to force me to live here, the least you could do is respect my beliefs," I snap. "I don't—"
"Rhea?"
I spin around, finding Casey sitting in the armchair. His left eye is swollen, a fresh bruise growing over the one that had just begun to yellow.
I throw my bag down on the couch, striding towards him. "What happened?" I exclaim.
"He's always going to be their target, Rhea," Xavier urges. "We have an opportunity to put an end to all of this. To give the courts the real truth."
I touch Casey's cheek diligently, my expression softening. I turn back to Xavier, frowning. "You're manipulating me," I say. "You're playing on a weakness."
"I'm sorry," Casey croaks. "I promised Sofía I wouldn't get myself into anymore shitty situations—"
"Hey," I say, sternly. "This isn't your fault. Do you understand me?"
Tears well up in his eyes as he shakes his head, looking away from me. "It is," he whispers.
I stand up, placing a hand on his head before turning away. Xavier watches me, leaning back against the wall beside the TV.
"I'll think about it," I whisper, before grabbing my bag and heading out the doorway.
Xavier doesn't stop me this time.
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