“Is there someone you can call?”
I almost laughed, but my chest would not allow it.
“I already did.”
She seemed to understand more than I had said. Her expression softened, though she did not offer pity. I was grateful for that.
“Then tonight,” she said, “you rest because you need your strength. Tomorrow, you decide what comes next.”
Tomorrow.
Until that moment, tomorrow had always belonged to Garrett.
Tomorrow we would attend a charity dinner.
Tomorrow I would sign a document.
Tomorrow I would explain away another bruise.
Tomorrow I would become quieter, more careful, less visible.
But now, lying beneath the dimmed hospital lights, I realized tomorrow could belong to me.
At 12:06 a.m., my attorney replied.
Her name was Priya Shah. We had worked together years earlier, before Garrett persuaded me to join the legal department of Andrews Development. Priya was one of the few people who had objected when I left the firm.
