chapter nine

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July 2031

After nearly eight hours of poring over legal documents and case files, Samuel's vision has officially gone blurry. He rubs his eyes in an effort to clear it, but as he tries to concentrate on the same line of text he's been reading for the past minute, the letters continue to bleed together. Instead, he squints at the time on the corner of his computer screen.

It's already close to seven p.m., much to his surprise. The last time he'd checked, he still had half an hour before he normally leaves the office—almost two hours ago. He probably would've noticed sooner if Carla texted him asking where he was, but she knows—and trusts—him well-enough that she most likely figured he was stuck here. Otero's been paying him special attention, piling a lot of casework upon him lately as well as having him assist on more high profile cases. Samuel, of course, is thankful that he's being given so many opportunities and that his skills aren't only being appreciated, but also respected.

However, he is absolutely exhausted. And just a tad stressed out. On top of how busy work is right now, Carla's due date is getting nearer and nearer. It isn't until next month, but with each day, he feels himself becoming a little more frazzled. He's just as anxious as he is excited for Eva to finally come into the world.

And he knows that when she does, he's going to be even more tired than he already is at the moment, so he should probably be taking advantage of being able to sleep while he still can instead of spending his nights working overtime. Deciding he's done enough for today, Samuel packs his things into his suitcase and prepares to go home.

He's almost at the elevators when the doors part, revealing his boss standing inside.

"Just the man I was looking for," Otero says as he steps out. "I'm glad I caught you before you left, García. Come with me. There's something we need to discuss."

With Otero's back to him, Samuel slumps at the notion that he's about to be given even more stuff to do. If he'd left just a few minutes earlier, he probably would've been on his way to the apartment already, and not following his boss to his office.

But then Samuel tenses warily as he replays the other man's words in his mind. There's something we need to discuss. Maybe he hasn't been doing his job as well as he thought he has, and Otero's about to reprimand him. Or worse. Realistically, Samuel knows he isn't going to get fired or anything, but his nervousness overpowers rationalization.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" He asks, lowering himself into the plush armchair before Otero's desk. The man settles in across from him and raises his eyebrows.

"Not at all. Well, besides Díaz's defense attorneys being a pair of ruthless bastards, but what else can you expect from someone willing to defend a guy who embezzled from a children's hospital?"

Samuel scoffs in agreement. The Díaz case has been the most taxing, and most disgusting, one he's been assigned to recently.

"But no, that's not why I wanted to speak to you," Otero continues. He meets Samuel's eye, and out of nowhere, asks, "Are you free this weekend?"

The weekend is typically the only time he has off. It should be his time off, that is, but he suddenly suspects that Otero really did bring him here to give him more work. That same weariness from before instantly returns, although Samuel makes sure it's not visible whatsoever on his face or in his body language. He'd been looking forward to sleeping in and lounging around, but he doesn't expect his boss to view that as a viable excuse to get out of coming into the office.

"I was just going to spend some time with Carla, but other than that, I didn't really have any plans."

"You two are expecting, right?" Samuel nods, unable to suppress the tiny surge of excitement that still bursts inside of him whenever someone else mentions how they're going to be parents. Otero smiles kindly. "How is she feeling these days?"

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