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Emily sits across from her, removes the oval plastic covering the whipped cream on her coffee and, after licking the white topping, inserts the straw and sucks until she's satisfied. Emma watches her, horrified; she'll never understand her cousin's obsession with that sugar-loaded drink.

"From my therapy session."

Emma suddenly remembers that her cousin attends sessions with a psychiatrist and can't help feeling a pang of guilt for not asking about her progress.

"How's it going with her?" she asks directly.

"If I'd known how great these sessions would make me feel, I would have started a long time ago," Emily confirms. "Dr. Mitchell has helped me so much that some days I feel like I'm a completely different Emily from the one I used to be."

Emma reaches out to take her cousin's hand. She admires her, has always thought she's an extraordinary woman, and although her Aunt Bilma had recommended therapy to Emily several times, Emma never thought it necessary because to her, Emily was the strongest person she knew. Now she realizes that perhaps we aren't all as strong as we appear.

"I'm so glad, Em," Emma says, squeezing her hand affectionately. "You know I'm here if you need anything from me."

The scene is absurd—it's supposed to be a family moment full of support and affection, but Emily sucks so loudly on her drink and makes such pleasure-filled murmurs that Emma can't help bursting into laughter. Emily smiles and winks at her.

"Well," Emma changes the subject to start working, "tomorrow I have an appointment with the social worker who's been handling Aaron's case from the beginning. I've also spoken on the phone with the foster mother, and we shouldn't have any problems with them either." Emma types for a few seconds and leans closer to the screen. "I have the two reports we were waiting for and one from the boy's school."

"We have almost everything," Emily adds. "You need to interview Mia again, review the information she provided, and have her sign the documents. After that, we just need to prepare Leah and her mothers for the meeting with the judge."

Emma tenses up, and not imperceptibly, because Emily notices how her cousin literally jumps in her chair. They look at each other, and Emily narrows her eyes, though she doesn't say anything.

"Can you talk to her?"

Emma's voice comes out somewhere between childish and fake nonchalance. She picks up some folders on her desk, straightens them, and puts them back in place. Her cousin's gaze drills into her, so she gets up to escape her analysis. She approaches the window and stands there like a statue. She's terrible at pretending.

"What happened?" Emily's question comes with a swivel of her chair that positions her almost facing Emma.

The younger lawyer remains silent for a few seconds, not because she wants to hide something from her cousin, but because she doesn't know how to say it. She thinks a bit about how to explain herself and, finding no subtle words, blurts it out.

"We fucked," she says. "You know, Mia and I. We fucked," she repeats.

Emily raises her eyebrows, opens her eyes wide, and twists her lips. Then she nods as if she just understood.

"Didn't you say you disliked her?" she asks with a mocking tone.

Emma snorts and crosses her arms.

"I thought so too. You know her, she's arrogant, hateful..." Emma bites her lips in a gesture she couldn't suppress.

"But..." Emily says, encouraging her to continue.

Emma shakes her head and walks back to sit in her chair.

"Fragile," she describes Mia with one word. "The night Aaron ran away, she was devastated. She was a bundle of nerves, couldn't stop shaking and saying her brother was all she had. I didn't know what to do you know how terrible I am at comforting people. I don't know how it happened, but suddenly we were kissing."

Emma abruptly stops her story. She crosses her legs because, although the sex wasn't as wild as she's had many times, the memory of the caresses and the delicacy with which Mia treated her makes excitement pool in her lower belly.

"I think it's the first time I've made love that way," she continues. "I thought it would be, I don't know, rough, like her. And it wasn't—it was something gentle, loving, magical."

Emily raises her eyebrows again. She's only heard her cousin talk like this once before, and at that time she was head over heels in love. She omits commenting and continues listening.

"I left in the morning. I panicked terribly and as soon as I could, I left her apartment."

"Haven't you talked since then?"

Emma shakes her head and starts fidgeting with a pen.

"Not about what happened," she explains. "We've talked twice, but only about Aaron. It's been very professional; she hasn't mentioned what happened, and neither have I."