Chapter 35
Emily Windsor's POV
Jade stayed silent the entire ride, only tightening her grip on my hand.
The cab finally stopped at a place called Rust Belt Community, where most of the plaintiffs lived—rows upon rows of makeshift houses cobbled together from shipping containers and corrugated metal, like enormous rusted tin cans.
We paid the driver and got out, swallowing down our discomfort. Following the addresses in the case files, we found the home of John Murray, the man leading this class action lawsuit.
It was a dwelling fashioned from a blue shipping container, with a few faded clothes hanging by the door.
I knocked. A woman with a deeply lined face and graying hair poked her head out, eyeing us with suspicion.
"Who are you looking for?"
"Hello, ma'am. We're attorneys from New York. We're here to see John Murray about the Kingsley Chemical case." I kept my voice as gentle and non-threatening as possible.
At the word "attorneys," her expression didn't soften—it hardened. She instinctively moved to close the door. "We don't need lawyers. Please leave."
"Wait, please!" I quickly pressed my hand against the door. "We're here to help you. We've taken your case."
The woman froze. Her clouded eyes searched my face for a long time, as if trying to judge whether I was telling the truth.
Finally, she sighed.
"Looking for them? You're too late." She opened the door and let us in, her voice hoarse. "Come inside."
The interior was dim, the furnishings sparse.
The woman poured us two glasses of murky water, then sank wearily into a battered chair.
"John and the others... they were taken by the police yesterday afternoon."
My heart plummeted. "Taken? Why?"
"Why else?" A bitter smile crossed her lips as tears welled in her eyes. "The cops said they were causing a public disturbance, disorderly conduct. All they did was go to the chemical plant with a few signs, shouting for answers, and they got hauled off like common criminals."
Her words of despair hit me like a sledgehammer.
Police involvement meant Kingsley Chemical wasn't content with just throwing money at the problem anymore. They were wielding their power, trying to snuff out any resistance before it could catch fire.
This was even worse than I'd imagined.
"Where are they being held?" I forced myself to stay calm, my mind racing. Now wasn't the time to wallow in anger or sympathy. I was a lawyer. I had to get them out within the bounds of the law.
"Westside Detention Center." The woman wiped her tears, a faint glimmer of hope rekindling in her clouded eyes. "Miss, can you... can you really get them out?"
"I'll do everything in my power." I didn't make empty promises. Then I grabbed Jade's hand and hurried out of the container house.
Outside, the stench—a nauseating mix of chemical waste and decay—still hung thick in the air.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Carl directly.
"Emily? How's it going? Preston District treating you alright?" His fake cheerfulness oozed through the line the moment he picked up.
I had no patience for pleasantries. "Carl, my clients—the lead plaintiffs in the Preston District class action—were detained by local police yesterday on charges of unlawful assembly."
A beat of silence on the other end, then his tone turned hesitant. "That's... uh..."
"I need the firm to issue a meeting authorization immediately and fax it to Westside Detention Center on an emergency basis," I cut him off, my tone brooking no argument. "You want me to win good press for the firm? Then give me the weapons to fight with. If my clients are locked up, this lawsuit becomes a joke, and our firm becomes a laughingstock right along with it."
I laid his precious reputation and bottom line directly on the table.
Carl instantly got the message, his attitude flipping one-eighty. "No problem! I'll have my assistant handle it right away. You'll have what you need within half an hour!"
I hung up, and my taut nerves eased slightly.
Jade looked at me, her eyes full of undisguised admiration. "Emily, you were so badass just now."
I tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it.
Half an hour later, we successfully retrieved the faxed meeting authorization from a print shop with spotty signal.
We immediately headed to the detention center.
Westside Detention Center was even more decrepit than I'd imagined. Gray walls crawled with splotchy mold, and the air reeked of damp and despair.
Jade and I stuck out like sore thumbs, completely at odds with everything around us.
We waited on metal benches for nearly an hour before being allowed into the visitation room.
It was a cramped, suffocating space with a peeling metal table dividing it in two.
Soon, John and three other plaintiffs were brought in. They all wore gray prison jumpsuits, hands cuffed in cold metal, faces uniformly etched with exhaustion and numbness.
When they saw me, their eyes filled with thick wariness and hostility.
"Hello. I'm Emily, your attorney." I placed my documents on the table, trying to keep my voice calm and professional.
"Attorney?" John let out a cold laugh. He looked a decade older than his photo in the case file, his eyes—which should have been honest and plain—now full of mockery and distrust. "We can't afford some fancy Manhattan lawyer like you."
A younger man beside him gave me an aggressive once-over, his gaze finally settling on my tailored blazer. He spat. "All dressed up like you're somebody. No different from those bloodsucking corporate assholes. You're all the same! Lawyers from high-end firms like yours—aren't you just lapdogs for the rich?"
"We don't need your fake charity! Did Kingsley send you? Here to make us drop the lawsuit?"
"Get the hell out! We don't trust you!"
Sharp insults and accusations rained down on me like hail.
They vented all the anger they felt from being deceived and oppressed onto me.
"How dare you talk to her like that!" Jade's face flushed red with anger. She shot to her feet, defending me. "We flew all the way from New York to help you! Do you have any idea how many high-paying cases Emily turned down to take yours? Instead of being grateful, you're hurling insults!"
Jade's outburst only intensified their hostility.
John's gaze moved past me, carrying a cynicism born from seeing too much. "Help us? Little girl, you're too naive. In this place, nobody helps us out of the goodness of their heart. She just wants to use our worthless lives to score herself a reputation as some champion of the people."
"You—!" Jade was too furious to form words.