Page 73 of Healing Hearts
“Maggie was a kid, but Emily is an adult. I think it’s fair to let her decide what she can handle.”
I step away from her, and I shake my head. “I didn’t do anything bad, but if your instincts about Judy are right, that doesn’t mean I won’t get knocked down in the fallout. Desperate people do desperate things.”
From prior experience, I am well aware of what Dan is capable of, how he’ll do anything to keep himself afloat and sink everyone else to the bottom. I just have to hope like hell he hasn’t put weights on me that I never saw him attaching.
Chapter Thirty
Emily
The shop is closed, and I’m not sure what I expected, but seeing all the police tape grabs me by the throat. Itlookslike a crime scene, even though I know Trent didn’t do anything wrong. Seeing what they’ve done to the place causes a spike of irrational anger.
Of course Trent would get cold feet and throw up barriers when the place he’s poured so much into is now a sign of potential illegal activity.
Dan might not have been able to lure Trent back into drug dealing, but he’s certainly making sure Trent’s punished for his unwillingness to go along with Dan’s plans.
To make things worse, as Trent predicted, some factions of the town are alreadytskingand buzzing about how they knew something was fishy when Trent was doing so well. When the truth comes out, it won’t reverberate as loud as the lie, it never does, and there will always be people who’ll look at what’s happening now with side-eyes, convinced Trent got lucky and not that he’s innocent.
If I could strangle Dan with my bare hands, I think I’d have it in me to do it. At least then Trent and I’d both have criminal records and he could stop throwing his past up like an insurmountable barrier.
I drive away, and I head to Kathy’s Café to get Maggie and myself coffees before I stop by the pharmacy. While I stand in line, I can hear people whispering, gossip flying around me like arrows, narrowing, missing their mark.
“Oh, Emily,” Kathy says when I get to the front. “I was so sorry to hear Trent let you down.”
“He didn’t let me down,” I say, bristling. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
She lets out a deep sigh and shakes her head. “Maggie said that in high school too, you know. That Trent couldn’t have been doing what he was doing. We all know how that turned out.”
“For what it’s worth,” Sabrina says at Kathy’s shoulder, “I don’t think Trent did anything wrong this time.”
“What can I get you?” Kathy asks, shooing Sabrina back to mixing drinks.
I give her the coffee orders, even though I might become like Maggie and stop coming here. Judgmental bullshit is not what I want to be sipping. When it becomes clear that the chatter behind me has a lot to do with Trent, I rotate on my heel after I’ve paid, and I survey all the familiar faces. If this costs me a client or two, I can’t even be mad about it. I don’t want to represent them anyway.
“Trent is going to be cleared. I can guarantee you that he’s not involved in this in any way.”
A couple of people shake their heads, like I’m deluded, and that same anger surfaces, threatening violence.
I go to the counter, and I grab my coffees from Sabrina. I try not to storm out of the café. I don’t want to give a single persona reason to believe I don’t have total faith in Trent’s innocence, and how I act matters.
Maggie’s pharmacy is quiet when I enter, and Maggie glances up from the back counter, where she’s filling prescriptions.
“Slow day?” I ask, approaching with the coffees.
She takes the one I offer, and she comes around the retail counter to lean against it with me. “I probably shouldn’t say this out loud, but I suspect it’s slow because of what’s going on with Trent. I never distanced myself from him, and that was easy to say and do when he lived in Utica.” Maggie takes a long sip. “It’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”
“I loudly declared Trent innocent in Kathy’s today, so I’m sure I’m also on people’s shit lists.”
Maggie holds her hand up and I high-five it. “Honestly, if I was going to root around in shit for anyone, it’d be a Castillo man,” Maggie says.
“He moved out,” I say, staring at my cup.
“I wondered if he would. He’s always been really hard on himself about what he did, and I get it, but I still wish he could move past it.”
“Hard to move past when it’s being shoved back in your face by the man who contributed to your jail sentence the first time.”
“Fair point,” Maggie says.
Silence sits between us as we sip our coffees.
