It Was Always You by Sarah K. Stephens

Author:Sarah K. Stephens [Stephens, Sarah K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2019-11-27T16:00:00+00:00

23

The next day finds me on YSU’s campus for the first time since the accident, while Annie stays back at my apartment, trying to catch up on some work related to her upcoming exhibition. This morning I had an e-mail waiting for me from my Department Head, explaining that my class would be covered for today, which was a relief given everything else I’m trying to sort out.

Walking across campus feels surreal, and it’s strange to me that the familiar landmarks all look the same. Part of me wants to call out, demand an explanation for why people are buying coffee and going to class when my entire life has turned inside out.

Another larger part of me already knows that indifference is the world’s status quo.

At least the meeting with Dana had gone well this morning. Annie and I had driven to her office, which sits next door to the rescue mission shelter in downtown Youngstown, just a few minutes from campus. Inside her beige office that smelled faintly of Murphy’s oil soap and the rotting wood of the old Victorian house that had been transformed into offices decades ago, Dana was matter-of-fact. She’d take my case, she told me, but she had a few conditions. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek bun at the nape of her neck, and it wobbled back and forth when she shook her head from side to side, as if she were recalling all the clients before me who’d disappointed her.

“I haven’t served as defense counsel in a criminal case for a few years now,” she’d said. “But you and I know each other well, and I know you can follow instructions.” She cast a shrewd glance at both of us. “When you want to, that is.”

Annie and I had both been in family court with Dana enough times to understand that she was basically a bulldozer who set a path and went for it. As long as you stayed behind her, you’d be fine. That’s how she’d managed to emancipate me legally from my mother—termination of parental rights, in fact—despite all bureaucratic red tape to the contrary. It’s also how she’d managed to keep Annie and I together at the group home for so many years, instead of having one of us cast off into the abyss of foster care again when beds became scarce.

The air outside is warmer than usual for December, and the sun actually makes an appearance as I walk past DeBartolo Hall and head further into campus. I’m not going into my office today. I can’t bear the kind faces and probing questions of my colleagues. There’s too much of my old normal waiting for me at my desk, and so instead I’m heading to a place less familiar.

I pull the collar up on my coat and silently wish I’d worn a hat today. Despite the sun, a bitter wind still manages to work its way through the trees growing in the center of campus.

“Here’s what

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