B2: Chapter 19 - End of the World, Redux - V

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  Hailey and Jessica landed on the roof of the office, promptly at five. Her mom was waiting there, along with a young man she didn't know. His eyes widened only briefly as she glided into view. Jessica kept herself hidden, clearly unsure about the other man.

  "The lawyer?" Hailey asked, rather unnecessarily.

  "Yes. I warned him." Stephanie nudged him forward slightly.

  "Miss Winscombe, a pleasure," he said, holding out a hand. Hailey shook it hesitantly. "My name is Jefferson Baux, criminal defense attorney with Hanford Jenkins."

  "Hi."

  "As I understand it, you haven't necessarily committed any crimes, but you're looking for legal representation when interacting with the Federal Investigation Bureau, correct?"

  "Yes, that's right."

  He smiled. "A wise move, ma'am. Everyone has their rights, even the presumed deceased."

  "Uhh, about that. How do I prove myself... not dead?"

  "Well, thankfully, there were never official death certificates issued for most of the unidentified deceased from Rallsburg, so you aren't considered dead. Only those without relatives to protest were declared. Your legal status is currently 'missing', but I've no doubt it has been changed as of today." He smiled. "That was quite the showing you made outside LRP."

  "Thanks?"

  "I'm currently in the process of requesting an advance copy of that notorious book, but without an actual case to tie it to, it may be difficult. Could you call it libelous?"

  With how Cinza writes? "...Probably not. What about if the original author didn't want it published?"

  "Will she declare so openly? Currently, she doesn't exactly... well, exist."

  "Legally speaking."

  "Yes. This isn't my specialty, but I did some quick research. The pseudonymous writer doesn't any have rights in these circumstances. Presently, she's considered a creation of Pro Paradigm. The original author does hold power, as she held copyright to the words the moment they were put on the page. If she came forward to claim the diary as her own and block its publication, that may work. However, given the nature of the case and the national public interest, there will be considerable pressure to allow it despite the legal precedent protecting personal journals and diaries." He shrugged. "It's currently slated to be published on Tuesday the thirteenth, as I understand it."

  "In four days?" Hailey asked in dismay.

  "They're making a huge publicity push already. This isn't really my area of expertise, but I've never seen any media marketed this heavily, this fast. I'm assuming they're already well aware of the potential legal ramifications and the possibility that the original author is still alive."

  "So?"

  "So they don't care, to put it bluntly." Jefferson shrugged again. "They'll make more money than they'll ever be at risk of losing in a suit. It's business as usual."

  Hailey had to fight to control her anger for a moment. There wasn't anything to take it out on. No one on that rooftop was responsible. Just Nate.

  "I understand you want to talk to the FBI as soon as possible?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, I'd have to advise against that. I'd like a little bit of time to prepare before we go in, if we can manage it. The weekend, at least."

  "But... if it's publishing on Tuesday—"

  "Frankly, Miss Winscombe?" Jefferson took off his glasses and pulled out a small blue microfiber cloth, polishing the lens. "I don't believe you can stop this. The publishing engine's already moving. The books will be in every major retail store by tomorrow, to prepare for the launch day. They'll put them under lock and key to prevent early leaks, but the printing is already done. There's millions of copies across the country. It's practically impossible to prevent it."

  "But..."

  "Focus on what you can do," he added, putting his glasses back on and straightening them. "You can prevent Mr. Price from making a dime of ill-gotten gains. You can make sure your side of the story is heard. And you can finally start living a normal life again."

  "Yeah... about that last one."

  He smiled. "Okay, so you'll never lead a normal life again. Lead a new life. Whatever you want. I'm just your lawyer."

  "How much am I paying you?"

  Stephanie cleared her throat. "Enough."

  "Give him a raise, Mom. He's pretty good." Hailey smiled slightly, trying to joke her way out of the despair slowly settling in. "We'll go talk to the FBI on Monday then, Mr. Baux?"

  "Monday," he agreed, holding out his hand. She shook it, much more firmly this time. "An honor to meet you, Miss Winscombe."

  "Could you wait back in my office?" asked Stephanie. "I'll be there to discuss payment in a minute."

  As soon as he was gone and the door to the roof clicked shut, Jessica appeared out of thin air, stepping up next to Hailey.

  "Would you please warn me next time?" Stephanie gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

  "Sorry, Mom," said Hailey. Jessica just rolled her eyes.

  "So..." she started, but trailed off, staring out over the skyline. Her building wasn't even close to the tallest, but it still had an excellent view from the rooftop. It might have been pleasant, if not for all the industrial units scattered around and the constant noise.

  Or the overwhelming, world-class weight of anxiety bearing down on all three of them.

  "Yeah." Hailey put an arm around Jessica's shoulders, hugging her close. Stephanie joined them, putting arms around them both for a tight group hug. Jessica leaned into it, as did Hailey. For just a moment, Hailey could pretend her mom would just take care of everything for her again, like when she was little.

  "Hailey..."

  Hailey's phone rang. She stared down at it like it had said something offensive, ruining the moment.

  "Answer it," Stephanie whispered, staring.

  She didn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

  "Miss Winscombe?" asked a crisp female voice.

  "Yes?"

  "My name is Linda Milgram-Renalds. I represent a client to whom you recently issued a public... summons, let's call it?"

  Hailey's eyes narrowed. "You're Nate's lawyer."

  "Miss Winscombe, my client has a response your request."

  "...Okay?"

  "He'll agree to meet and speak with you, in person. On one condition."

  "Name it."

  "You will both appear on the Evening Show with Russell Wallace on Monday night, and talk face-to-face on live television."

  "...What?"

  "This is our only offer. Please reach out to this number with your response by eleven o'clock tonight. I'll be awaiting your call."

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