Chapter 3

• I wake up the next morning and I can't get out of bed. I just stare at the ceiling, my hands behind my head, thinking of my next move, and that's when I decide I'm going to look for Jill Baker and convince her to be my lawyer.
• I get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. I see my reflection in the mirror. I look like I've aged 5 years in the past few days.
• I take a nice long hot shower to calm my nerves, brush my teeth, and comb my hair.
• I get ready, putting on jeans, a black sweatshirt, a black cap, and dark sunglasses so no one recognizes me. My picture is all over the news. I don't want to draw attention to myself.
• I type Jill Baker into the search bar on my phone, and I see she works at a firm called Ross & Baker. I copy the address, and I'm on my way.
• I take the train, and on the train ride to upper Manhattan, I go through articles about Cassidy's death saying all sorts of things about me.
• ~Manwhore kills client after she refuses to pay.~
• ~Sex gone wrong as woman dies in hand of male prostitute ~
• I get off the train and head into the building; her office is on the fifth floor. I walk to the elevator, keeping my head down and focusing on the ground.
• “Good afternoon, sir. How can I help?” the receptionist asks.
• “I'm looking for Jill Baker; is she in?, it's urgent." I insisted.
• She inclines her head, trying to see my face, and gives me a lackluster smile and replies.
• “Miss Baker isn't around right now, but if you drop your contact information, she'll get back to you, she added.
• “Do you know when she'll be in? I asked.
• "No, I can't tell, but you can give me your name and phone number; she'll get back to you,” she insisted.
• Taking a few deep breaths, I check the time on my phone, thank the receptionist, and make my way to the elevator.
• I need to see Jill today. I don't know how much time I have before the police come knocking on my door again.
• I search for Jill on Instagram, and after going through what seems to be a thousand pictures, I come across a picture of her on a porch, which I assume is her house. I hope so.
• I recognized the neighborhood I've been there before when a client invited me over.
• I take a cab this time. I'm running out of time. I hope she's there. This is a long shot, but I'm willing to try.
• I alight the cab a few streets over and make my way down. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I keep looking at the picture and at the houses as I walk by.
• My hands start to sweat as I walk down the last street, and my face is red and hot. I would have blamed it on the weather, but it's 15° today.
• And that's when I see the house from the picture and the same red car.
• I walk up the driveway, and that's when I see a woman unloading groceries from her car. I assume it's her.
• I make my way behind her and reach out to touch her shoulder, and at speed, she elbows me in the stomach.
• I wince at the pain. She then twists my hand behind my back. It happened so fast, I didn't expect it.
• She's holding my wrist in her hand when I use my other hand to tap her car.
• “Tap out; please don't hurt me." I groaned, tapping her car twice.
• She lets go of my hand, and I try to stand straight. I remove my glasses and my cap.
• Realization dawned on her. She knows who I am. She had this unreadable expression on her face. I couldn't tell what she was thinking.
• She was wearing trainers, leggings, and a baggy shirt. She looks like she's just coming from the gym.
• “I've been expecting you,” she confesses.
• “But I didn't know you would show up at my house,” she admitted.
• “I'm sorry about that,” she gestured to her car.
• She was apologizing for almost breaking my hand.
• and almost dislocating my shoulder.
• “I went to your office, but you weren't there. I'm sorry to show up like this, but I need your help.”
• “I know. Meet me at my office tomorrow,” she replied.
• “So you'll take my case !” the corner of her mouth quirked up.
• “We’ll hash out the details tomorrow at my office, “she stated.
• Taking her grocery bags from her car and shutting the door, I took that as my queue to leave, but then she says.
• "Manuel, if you ever show up to my house uninvited, I won't only break your hand; I will call the police.” My eyes popped out.
• She turned and went into her house, closing the door. I stood there for a few seconds before I decided to leave, i fist bump the air.
• I felt warmth in my chest, my face beaming as I walked down the street towards the main road.
• That was the type of lawyer I wanted to fight for me—the one who wouldn't let anyone push her around—that was the type of lawyer Jill was.
• And for the first time since this whole thing started, I felt relieved. I had hope.