DESPERATE HEROINES

CHAPTER 13 : THE LAWYER AND THE LIE

Monday came too fast.

I woke up with my face stuck to Liam’s dinosaur.

I’d been holding it all night.

My phone had 4 texts.

All from Damian.

`9:02am: Lawyer at 11. I can pick you up.`

`9:15am: Please answer.`

`10:30am: I’m outside. Not coming in unless you say so.`

`10:45am: Lila please. This is for him.`

I stared at the last one for a long time.

For him.

Not for us. For Liam.

I typed back. Deleted it. Typed again.

`Fine. 5 minutes.`

He was downstairs in 3.

####

He didn’t talk in the car.

I didn’t either.

The silence was loud. Like the kind of quiet that happens after a fight when both people know they’re wrong but neither will say it first.

The lawyer’s office was small. Smelled like old paper and coffee.

Ms. Nakato. She was old. Glasses on a chain. Looked like she’d seen everything.

"Lila Mutesi?" She shook my hand. Her hands were cold. "And you are?"

Damian. "Damian Hartley."

She looked at him. Then at me. "Sit."

For an hour she asked questions.

About Richard. About the custody. About the fraud case. About money. About everything.

I cried twice.

Damian didn’t touch me. But he passed me tissues.

"Here’s the truth," Ms. Nakato said finally. "You have a case. But it’s messy. Mr. Hartley’s charges are making this worse."

"I know," Damian said.

"Do you?" She snapped. "Because if you go to jail in 26 days, Mrs. Mutesi loses by default."

26 days.

The number felt like a knife.

"What do we do?" I asked. My voice was small.

"We fight dirty," she said. "We prove Richard is unfit. We prove you’re the stable parent. And we pray Mr. Hartley doesn’t get convicted."

Damian leaned forward. "I’ll do anything."

"Then stay out of trouble," she said. "And stay out of the news."

We left with a stack of papers. And a $200 bill I couldn’t pay.

Damian paid it.

I didn’t say thank you.

####

On the drive home it started raining again.

Uganda and rain. Name a more iconic duo.

"She’s good," Damian said.

"She’s expensive."

"I’ve got it."

"I don’t want your money."

"Lila." He stopped at a red light. "I’m not doing this to buy you. I’m doing this because he’s my son too."

That word.

Son.

Like he had a right to say it.

"He doesn’t even know you," I whispered.

"I know."

The light turned green.

We didn’t talk the rest of the way.

When we got to my apartment, I got out fast.

"Lila, wait."

"What."

"Can I... can I come up? Just for 10 minutes. There’s something I need to tell you."

I should’ve said no.

I did say no.

And then I opened the door anyway.

####

My apartment smelled like instant noodles and sadness.

I was embarrassed.

Damian didn’t seem to notice. He just stood in the middle of the living room like he didn’t belong.

Because he didn’t.

"So?" I crossed my arms.

He pulled out his phone. Showed me an email.

From the court.

`Subject: Motion to Expedite Hearing - GRANTED`

`New court date: 14 days.`

14 days.

Not 26.

14.

My knees felt weak.

"That’s... that’s good right?"

"It’s good and bad." He put the phone down. "Good because it’s faster. Bad because I have less time to prove I’m not a criminal."

He looked so tired.

There were bags under his eyes. He hadn’t shaved.

For the first time I saw it.

He was scared too.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Doing what?"

"Helping. Paying. Showing up."

"Because I messed up." He laughed but it wasn’t funny. "Because I thought I could handle everything alone. Money. Enemies. Richard. And I was wrong."

"So now what?"

"Now I fix it." He stepped closer. "With you. If you’ll let me."

I wanted to.

God I wanted to.

But the memory of 3:17am was too fresh.

The quiet click of the door.

"I can’t," I said. "Not yet."

He nodded. Like he expected it.

"Okay."

He turned to leave.

"Damian?"

He stopped. Didn’t turn around.

"What."

"The blue dinosaur. Thank you."

He didn’t answer. Just left.

The door clicked.

Quiet again.

####

That night I couldn’t sleep.

14 days.

I opened my laptop.

_The Secrets in the East Wing_ had 500 new reads.

Someone wrote: "Author are you okay?? This chapter felt different."

I replied: "I’m okay. Just writing through it."

Lie.

I wrote instead.

Chapter 13 of my book. Lila goes to court.

She wears the only nice dress she has.

She loses.

I deleted it.

Wrote it again.

She wins.

Deleted that too.

Because I didn’t know which one was real yet.

At 3am my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I almost didn’t answer.

But what if—

"Miss Mutesi?" It was a woman. "This is from the facility. Liam has a fever. 102. We gave him medicine but—"

I was already grabbing my keys.

"What hospital?"

####

I got there in 20 minutes.

Running. In the rain. No umbrella.

Damian was already there.

How did he—

"They called me too," he said. "As next of kin on the paper."

Next of kin.

We sat in the waiting room.

Not talking. Just waiting.

At 4:30am a nurse came out.

"He’s stable. Fever’s down. You can see him for 5 minutes."

5 minutes.

Liam was so small in that bed.

IV in his arm. Eyes closed.

"Mama?" He whispered when he saw me.

"I’m here baby." I held his hand. So tiny. So hot. "I’m here."

"Don’t leave."

"I’m not leaving."

Damian stood in the corner. Not coming close.

Liam opened one eye. Saw him.

"Who’s that?"

My heart stopped.

Damian stepped forward. Slow. Like he was afraid he’d scare him.

"Hey buddy." His voice cracked. "I’m... I’m a friend of your mom."

Liam looked at me.

I nodded. Once.

"Okay," Liam said. And closed his eyes again.

5 minutes was up.

We walked out together.

Neither of us spoke.

Outside, Damian stopped me.

"He’s okay," he said.

"He’s sick because of this."

"I know."

"Don’t you get it?" I yelled. But quietly. Because hospital. "This is YOUR fault!"

"I know!" He yelled back. "That’s why I’m here! That’s why I’m not sleeping! That’s why I’m going to lose everything if I have to!"

People were staring.

I lowered my voice.

"14 days, Damian. If you fail, he’s gone. Forever."

"I know."

We stood there. In the rain.

Both of us soaked.

Both of us broken.

"I’m scared," I admitted.

"Me too."

And that was the first honest thing we’d said to each other in weeks.

####

It’s Tuesday now.

Day 7.

13 days left.

Liam’s fever is down. He’s okay.

I’m not.

But I’m writing.

Because desperate heroines don’t get to fall apart.

Not yet.

Not until he’s home.

END OF CHAPTER 13