I dragged myself into work earlier than usual this morning. Although I hadn't spoken to Nas since his confession at dinner, I got a FedEx alert that all of the items he was donating to the museum was being delivered at 5:00am and someone had to be here to sign for it.
The sun still hid under the horizon making the inside of the museum fairly dark without the overhead lighting being on. I flicked the light switch which dimly illuminated the front delivery area, then made my way back to my office. The current time was 4:45am, and I hoped and prayed FedEx would be on time so I could find a place to take a much needed nap before my usual start time of 9:00am.
My mind has been a circus lately. From my situation with the court to my guilty feelings toward Nassau, I barely had a break from my nerves. Tabitha said we should be getting the judge's decision about reopening the case sometime this week, and there was not much we could do until then. If he decides to reopen it, there will be a new trial to redetermine the not-guilty verdict I already received. She said it could take up to a year of court dates and cross examinations to reach a new verdict, because new evidence and testimonies will be allowed.
I honestly forgot all about the diary. After I killed my step-dad, I left that house with only the clothes on my back, so the house and everything in it was left as it was. In my opinion, if they can bring the pages of the diary detailing my hatred and desire to kill him into evidence, then they should also have to include the pages that recount every time he abused me. It would not be fair to cherry-pick specific pages that only work in Fallon's favor. All in all, Tabitha is a much more acclaimed lawyer than Fallon's lawyer, and I trust her to do her job. If she tells me not to worry, I won't. Well, I'll try.
I saw the brown FedEx truck pull up to the front entrance on the security camera and scurried out of my office to let them in.
"Good morning, Indica!" Santana walked around from the other side of the truck with an enthusiastic grin on her face.
"Oh! Hi, Santana...what are you doing here?" I asked as politely as I could.
"Nas didn't tell me you were getting a delivery from the house today."
"I didn't know he had to run that by you," I laughed awkwardly.
"He doesn't! I heard his manager arranging the delivery on the phone and thought I would make sure everything arrived in one piece," she smiled.
"Right..." I looked over at the two men who were now hauling the couch into the museum and placing it exactly where I had specified, "Looks like they're doing just fine, but thank you for your...concern."
"Great! Let's go get some coffee."
"Oh, uh, I can't leave the museum unlocked."
"Hey, you," she pointed to one of the deliver drivers, "Lock the doors when you're done okay?" He gave her a thumbs up and she was already strutting back to her car, gesturing me to follow. I looked back at the front door and let out a sigh. What was this girl's motive?
I can unlock my car with my phone, so I didn't have to go back into the museum to get a key. I got in my car which was parked right behind hers, and waited for her to pull off so I could follow.
The city was still quiet so we cruised through green lights and I was able to watch the sun rise through my moonroof. We passed many coffee shops on our little journey, so I got a little nervous as I wondered where she was taking us. Conveniently, she stopped her car in front of the coffee shop I went to every Thursday.
"Have you ever been here?" she asked, looking at me. That simple question raised a red flag in my mind. Nas said she knew about his attendance in the support group that took place in the very back of the café we stood in, but she didn't know he told me that. He also told me she wasn't who she let on to be. Even though I wouldn't just blindly take his word for it, I did have a slightly different perspective of her intentions. I also thought about how Charlie said was purposely trying to befriend me. Why else would she wake up at 5am just to take me to coffee? I was definitely giving her an internal side eye.
