The Secret The Cheerleader Doesn't... - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

After Cassie's episode, she was acting different for about a week.  The kids noticed quickly and I informed them that their mama just needed to think for a little while.  During the day she interacts with the kids normally, though she was caught staring out windows more often than usual.  At night, however, she would lock herself in our room.  There had been multiple nights when I had to sleep on the couch.  If we spoke, it was about the children or what the house needed.
It was as if we both were coworkers.
I couldn't focus on my work, constantly fucking up the reports.  I felt like I needed a drink, but it was only seven AM and the last time I drank anything... yea, I don't need any more issues.  While I was deleting everything and trying to write a comprehensible report, Jeremiah plopped down beside me, "Don't you look peaceful."
"Choke on a dick and die," I replied.
"Damn!  What's wrong?" He took one of my files and assisted me, "Cassie not okay?"
"Would you be?" I replied, leaning back in my chair and taking a moment, "I'm afraid."
"Of?"
"Her," I mumbled.
He stopped typing and turned to me, "Do you think she will... you know."
"I'm not scared of that Jeremiah," I said, using my index and middle finger to rub my head, "I'm afraid of what she is doing to herself.  Cassie has a tendency to overthink, blame herself, and come up with irrational thoughts.  If she dissociates, I'm afraid she may end up hurting herself."  He nodded along, rubbing his lips.  No longer wanting to indulge him with my issues, I asked, "How's the family?"
"Norma wants me to take some time off and spend time at home," he huffed, "but I'm packed with cases and cilents.  I can't even imagine getting an afternoon off." We both knew that life.  Our lives were made for work and a couple hours with our families.  Outside of that, it was non-existant.
"How are the kids?"
"Crazy," he chuckled, "could you imagine taking care of five children all younger than ten... I don't know how Norma does it."
"Plus they have your DNA," I shuddered, "woman deserves a noble peace prize."  He shoved me, making me chuckle.  From my desk I had a clear view of the elevator and when those doors opened, out stepped Jennifer.  "You used to practice law, right?" I asked Jeremiah.
"Yes."
"Can you be my defence after I skin Jennifer alive?" I gritted.
He flicked my forehead and said, "Sure, but it's gonna cost you a pretty penny."  Rolling my eyes at him, I watched as she made her way over.  "Good morning Costa," Jeremiah said with tone, "last time I checked, your office is on a different floor."
"And last I checked your desk was over elsewhere," she smiled.  I was still staring at her though, in shock.  She was blonde now... she dyed her hair.  Why did she dye it?  "What's wrong Ani?" She lowered herself, making it painfully obvious that she wanted her breast to be seen, "Is there something you like?"
"I'm just curious what I did in my past life to end up with you in my current one," I lifted a folder to block the ironingboard in front of me, "what are you here for?  If you have nothing to talk about professionally, please excuse yourself."
She held a file in front of my face, making me intrigued.  Inside was a picture of a young girl, a nine year, and her past... it made me want to puke.  "I need you to prove that this child has been abused," she said.
Glancing up at her I asked, "How do people not think she was abused?  There is physical evidence of it!"
"I need you to prove that her family abused her," she said, straightening herself finally, "they are all trying to say she received all of this from a neighbor."
"Isn't there DNA evidence?" I asked.
"Yes, but there is DNA from the neighbor as well," she said, taking a seat, "the neighbor took her from her family and made the 911 call.  Now the family is stating that the daughter went to the neighbor's house often, apparently the neighbor was practically family.  The family is now pinning it on the neighbor.  I need you to get the girl to talk."
"Is she refusing?" I flipped through the folder to see in bold red at the bottom of her photo 'MUTE'.  "I see," I sighed, placing it on my table, "when do you need to know everything?"
"In three months," she fixed her suit, running a hand through her hair, "I need the case as soon as possible.  I want to build a case to get this kid the fuck out of that home."
"Got it," I stood up, grabbing my jacket, "where is the young girl held?"
"I'm heading there now, I'll drive us over," she dialed a number on her phone.  I stopped in my tracks and stated at her.  She noticed I wasn't coming and placed her hand over the phone so the other person couldn't hear, "This case is all I fucking care about when I'm at work.  Once I clock out, you can be shitting yourself... but right now I want to fucking nail the shit out of this family."
As she walked away I sighed.  If only she could be this reasonable all the time.  With that, I pulled out my phone message Cassie I would be late and walked into the elevator with her.
~
Laying my head on the table, staring out the window to see the lights of the tall buildings and the darkness... I replayed the interactions I had with little Emma.  To think of the things this child... this nine year old went through... I could barely stomach it and I've seen horrific things for years.
Jennifer placed a coffee down in front of my face and fell into her seat across from me.  We both were drained.  I didn't have the will to stand up and drive home right now.  What I needed was to just lay here and think... wait until my mind had become numb enough to the case.  "This job really destroys a person, doesn't it?" She asked.
I looked over at her and muttered, "What do you mean?"
"All the shit we see, day in and day out... the hours we spend here... taking up all our time and making it impossible to do anything else... it ruins people's lives," she had her eyes closed, sighing loudly.
Picking myself up, I lean back in my chair, "But we don't have to let it ruin our lives... we have to make the choice of taking breaks to be there for the ones we love and to remember what we are outside of work.  We are in control of what ruins us and makes us."
"If that's true, then why haven't you taken time to be with Cassie?  The kids?" She asked, opening her eyes.
I felt myself become a bit heated, "My family doesn't have anything to do with you.  Stay out of it."
She looked out the window, resting her coffee on her stomach.  I just examined her, trying to figure out what the fuck she was doing.  "I was married once," I was taken aback by her confession, "I was twenty-two when I met my husband.  We married two years later.  He was an engineer.  He enjoyed creating things and seeing how far he had advanced... I on the other hand wanted to make the world better... prosecute the evil and get justice for the good.  It was funny that we even worked."  She sipped her drink and placed it back on her stomach.  She drowsly stared out the window, "When I came to work here about four years ago, I was caught up with work.  I was constantly busy, pulling all nighters and rarely ever returning home... after being here for about eight and half months, he asked for a divorce."
"That must have been difficult," I said.
"It tore me apart," she huffed, "to me, he was my greatest inspiration to work.  I wanted to be just as intelligent, just as hard-working... I wanted to be on his level... but the truth is, the smarter and smarter I became, the less interested he was.  He liked my naive side... hated my judical persona.  I signed the papers and let him walk out."
I've seen many families reak apart due to the work levels of an individual... it was always hard to help.  It wasn't like either side was at fault... the truth was, each party thought that the other would bend a little to meet their will... and couldn't stand the idea of bending themselves.
"I was thirty-two when I met you for the first time," she said, chuckling a little, "I was still so lost over the divorce and was flunking at work... I was just one more mistake away from being fired.  You came in to work on a case for Robert Curt.  I so happened to pass by when I heard you say, 'Just because I am a young woman doesn't give you the damn right to sit here and act as if you have superiority to me.  I am here to help YOU with YOU'RE case.  Keep pissing me off and I'll walk my happy little ass back to my desk and leave you stranded'... for some reason... those words... what you said lit a fire in me.  I worked harder and harder, I cried and dedicated my life to my job..."  She looked back at me, a look I have only received from Cassie, and said, "Just so one day I could stand before you and be able to say, 'Hi, my name is Jennifer Costa and I will be the leading prosecuter for your cilent.'"
I was scared.
Frightened to my bones.
Because for the first time... I looked at someone but Cassie with complete admiration and understanding.