Calliope's ex-boyfriend, her high school sweetheart, crash-landed back into her life like a rom-com sequel she never ordered, ready to rewrite the script of her existence once again.
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"You...
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"You're telling me you had a chat with opposing counsel, and they're actually suggesting we handle this whole thing quietly? Why the hell would they even propose that? And what makes them think we'll ever agree to it?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Steve pauses his typing, his gaze shifting up from the laptop screen. "Well, their argument is that he's just a kid who shouldn't be charged as an adult. Phil mentioned that they don't want to amplify the calamity any further than it already is."
We've been holed up in this damn conference room for hours, brainstorming the best approach for that teenager who offed his own mom.
I stumbled into this mess at the weirdest time and ended up pulling an all-nighter just to catch up on those damn pleadings and correspondence. Sleep? Ha. Forget about it. Couldn't shut my eyes for a second without seeing Cal breaking down in my arms, and that whole damn thing about the baby.
It's eating me alive. I could've been a dad, a much better one than my own father, and it's really hitting me. I've been struggling since 5 AM to resist the urge to add alcohol to my coffee today.
I fucked up. Like, big time. And for the first time, I don't have a clue how to fix this mess I'm in. She hasn't called or sent a text. Hell, she can even access my email online if she wanted, and crickets. Talk about radio silence. Maybe that ship has sailed, and I was too late to hop on board.
"Or they might attempt to play the mental illness card," Akira, our paralegal, chimes in. "I've reached out to a psychologist who can shed some light on the defendant's state of mind. Plus, I'm in touch with a forensic expert to gather more details about the nature of the crime."
I drop my pen on my notepad. "Was he a kid when he got hold of his dad's loaded gun? When he walked upstairs into their bedroom and cold-bloodedly shot her in the face? That sounds like an adult crime to me. At that age, you damn well know what you're doing."
Steve leans back in his chair, contemplating my words for a moment. "I hear you, but they'll argue that even if he knew what he was doing, his age and circumstances should be taken into account. They'll likely try to paint a picture of a troubled kid who made a terrible mistake in a moment of confusion or distress."
What? Just because his mother wouldn't let him go to a party? He didn't just fire one shot, but three. It sucks to see someone so young go through this, but it's murder. No matter how hard the situation may be, I have to fight it.
I run a hand through my hair, frustration evident on my face. "I get it, Steve, but it's hard to ignore the brutality of the crime. We can't let them downplay the severity of what he did. Defense needs to clarify that there are consequences for such actions, regardless of age. If that's the case, every teenager is going to be out there killing they're parent's."
"That's where our job comes in. We need to gather all the evidence, testimonies, and expert opinions that will expose the truth and counter their arguments. We'll make sure justice is served, no matter how they try to spin it," Akira interjects. "Don't we always?"
