Chapter Twenty-five AvaI’ve been pacing the fifteen square feet of this lawyer’s office for the past half an hour. I brought in any bit of paperwork that could possibly be relevant—the contract from Mr. Roland, the summons papers, and every printed off spreadsheet of the company’s finances that I could find—and am waiting as patiently as I can while he scours every number and every word. There has to be something in there I’m missing, some unaccounted for fund or legal jargon I missed. Something that will help get me out of this parade of disasters.
The second I stormed out of Barrett’s office in Chicago, I called Megan and proceeded to sob into the phone for almost the entire three-hour-drive home. She listened as I totally fell to pieces, relaying the entire train wreck of a day, then d
