The public defender assigned to handle Kiara’s case was sketchy, to say the least. She disliked him immediately but was unwilling to pay for a lawyer for something so petty, as the charge’s name suggested. It was not even considered a felony. It was classified as a misdemeanor, whatever the hell that meant.
Those were the terms that shady lawyer was telling her non-stop for the last half an hour, making her head throb with a crushing headache. It was worsened by the fact she couldn’t speak her mind to the man, who insisted she called him Greg instead of Gregory.
“Gregory, I already understood the charges. Can we please move on?” Her voice began with an undertone of passive-aggressive, but with each passing minute, the ‘aggressive’ part was getting more prominent. She was probably just a couple of sentences away from a straight ‘go to hell, Gregory’.
However, the jackass seemed to miss all the clues of an impending punch to his face and kept talking like he couldn’t get tired of his own voice. The only thing that allowed Kiara to keep her stress in check was the fact that the conciliation conference would begin in less than an hour.
Uncle Harry really sped things up on her behalf, getting her a lawyer and a scheduled meeting in only three days. She made a mental note to thank him properly, maybe over dinner with his family. Auntie Carol was always fond of her and often took her side on arguments against her father.
She checked the clock on the wall again, anxious to be out of the room. And if she was being honest with herself, getting away from that endless speech was just one of the reasons. Facing Chris was making her heart race an F1 track, mostly because she was dying to see him ever since she left that coffee shop.