Chapter 67: A Tangled Web of Compassion and Betrayal 2
I typed a quick response, making an excuse about work. Natalie was useful, but my focus needed to be on
Olivia now.
Walking to my car, I allowed myself to imagine the future–Olivia and I as neighbors, running into each other in the elevator, sharing coffee in the morning. Small moments that would give me the opportunity to rebuild
what we once had,
What I’d foolishly thrown away.
The apartment was a strategic move, but it was more than that. It was a statement of intent. I wasn’t giving up on us, no matter how complicated things had become.
(Olivia’s POV)
“Are you sure this is okay?” Leah Pierce asked nervously from the backseat of my Bentley, her thin fingers fidgeting with the hem of her worn sweater.
I glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds, her frame diminished by illness. The pink woolen beanie pulled low over her head couldn’t completely hide the effects of chemotherapy.
“What do you mean?” I asked gently.
“This car…” she gestured around at the luxury interior. “I don’t want to get it dirty”
I noticed her trying to clean her mud–stained canvas shoes against the back of her legs, clearly worried about the pristine leather seats.
“Don’t worry about that,” I assured her. “It’s just a car”
Emma, sitting beside Leah, gave the girl’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I told you Olivia’s not like that. She
doesn’t care about stuff like that.”
Leah didn’t look convinced, but she stopped trying to clean her shoes,
“How are you feeling today?” I asked, changing the subject as we drove toward Harbor City Memorial
Hospital.
“Better than yesterday,” Leah answered quietly. “The new medication helps with the nausea,”
I nodded, remembering my mother’s battle with illness. The good days, the bad days, the days that blurred together in a haze of pain and medication.
“And your brother?” I asked. “How’s he handling everything?”
Leah’s face crumpled slightly. “He blames himself. For getting hurt, for not being able to work. He doesn’t understand that none of this is his fault.”
My heart ached for them both. Two young people carrying burdens no one their age should have to bear.
“Well, that’s why we’re going to help him,” I said firmly. “What happened to him wasn’t just unfortunate–it was illegal. And we’re going to make sure the factory takes responsibility.”
Leah’s eyes, too old for her young face, met mine in the mirror. “Why would you help us? You don’t even know
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US,”
The question was asked without self–pity, just genuine curiosity.
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” I answered simply. “And because I can.”
Emma smiled approvingly from the backseat. “See? I told you she was one of the good ones.”
*PORTS)
As we pulled into the hospital parking lot, I felt my resolve strengthen. These siblings needed an advocate,
and I was in a position to be that for them.
It was a privilege I didn’t take lightly.
The antiseptic smell hit me as soon as we entered the hospital, bringing back unwelcome memories of my mother’s final days. I pushed them aside, focusing instead on following Emma and Leah through the crowded
corridors.
Noah Pierce was in a general ward, sharing space with five other patients. The air was thick with the smells of unwashed bodies, medication, and despair.
“Noah,” Leah called softly as we approached his bed. “I brought someone who can help us.”
The young man lying on the narrow hospital bed looked up, his eyes immediately wary. Despite his obvious weakness, I could see the protective instinct flare as he assessed me–a stranger near his vulnerable sister.
“This is Olivia Winters,” Emma explained quickly. “She’s a lawyer, Noah. She wants to help with your case against the factory.”
Noah’s expression didn’t change. “We can’t afford a lawyer,” he said flatly.
1 stepped forward, keeping my voice low and professional. “I’d like to represent you on a contingency basis, Mr. Pierce. That means you don’t pay unless we win.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why would you do that? What’s in it for you?”
“Thirty percent of any settlement if we win,” I answered honestly. “Nothing if we lose. But based on what
Emma’s told me, I don’t think we’ll lose.”
Noah glanced at his sister, then back to me. The distrust in his eyes was painful to see–clearly life had taught him to be suspicious of unexpected kindness.
“I don’t want charity,” he said stiffly.
“It’s not charity,” I countered. “It’s justice. What happened to you was wrong, and the factory should be held
accountable.”
He seemed to consider this, his gaze drifting to his heavily bandaged right arm. The absence of his hand was stark even beneath the wrappings.
“Leah,” Emma said gently, “why don’t we go back to your ward while they talk? It’s almost time for your medication.”
Leah hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave her brother.
“Go,” Noah encouraged her with a forced smile. “I’ll be fine.”
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Chapter 5 The tender’s