“Jesus, if that’s ever you . . .”
“I . . .”
“Remember the Nia Jones case? You brought that to me, and it’s waiting for you. There’s stil work to be done. So think about it, okay?”
The idea appealed to her. She didn’t want to go back to Maine.
But she didn’t know what she wanted. She felt more adrift than ever.
But it wasn’t that easy. And besides, there were complications.
“I’m not a student,” Hannah said abruptly.
He stared at her. “What?”
“I mean, I’m enrol ed at U Maine, but not at Virginia. I only found out about the appeal in Michael’s case a few weeks ago. There was no way I could get a transfer so late in the year. I tried, but it wasn’t going to happen. Then I figured, I didn’t real y need to be a student. I just needed to look like one so I could get into the Project. So I paid someone to hack into the system at UVA and enter my name. They got me a student number and an email address and I had an ID
made up.”
Parekh looked completely thrown. “Are you serious?”
“I don’t know how long it would have worked. I didn’t try to attend classes. I didn’t want to risk getting caught. I just needed some time at the Project.”
Parekh was shaking his head. “Hannah, you’ve just . . . we’ve just told the court you’re enrol ed at Virginia Law. That’s the only reason you were al owed to question Pierce. Christ. If this was known, you’d be disbarred before you were ever admitted. You’d never be a lawyer.”
Now that it was al over Hannah felt only a sinking, drifting feeling. Whether or not she could return to school, whether or not she would ever be a lawyer, none of it seemed to matter. “I know. It seemed like it might be worth it.”
He was lost for words. He just stood there, thinking, for a long moment. “Do you plan on going back to Maine to graduate?”
“I suppose that’s up to you. You could report me.”
He started packing up his papers again and was silent for a time.
“Maybe some things are better left unsaid, for everyone’s sake. With al the fal out from this, there’l be enough headlines. Maybe no one wil think to look too closely at you.”
It surprised Hannah that Parekh was being so generous, but she thought it wasn’t likely she would get away with everything. There had been journalists in the courtroom. What had happened would be reported and she’d been front and center to al the drama. Someone was bound to ask an awkward question. She’d need more luck than she’d ever had in her life to get away with this, to be able to return quietly to Maine, without repercussions. If that was even what she wanted. “What happens next?” she asked. “With Pierce, I mean.”
“Burrel wil make some phone cal s. Engle won’t have this investigation long. This has been too public. They’l have to do it right.” Parekh had put the last of his papers into his bag. He glanced around the courtroom, as if committing it to memory, and turned to go.
“Robert.”
He turned back.
“Why do you do it? What’s in it for you?”
“Why do I do what? The Project, you mean?”
She nodded.
He sighed, like it was a question he had been asked too many times. “Because it has to be done. Because if you see something like this, and you can fix it, then it’s your mess to clean up. We’re talking about basic maintenance, Hannah. That’s what we’re doing. Our work is necessary, basic, bare minimum maintenance of the system.
If we don’t do it, the house fal s down around us. You asked what I get out of it? That’s the answer. A house I can live in. Somewhere safe to sleep at the end of the day.”
She let him go, but she thought about what he’d said for a long time.
Hannah
TWENTY-ONE
Hannah let herself quietly into the little house in Orono, Maine. Laura was waiting for her, by arrangement.
“Hannah.”
“Mom.”
Laura was standing near the fireplace, her hand on the back of the armchair. She was beautiful y dressed in tailored wool trousers and a silk blouse, her hair smooth and shiny. Hannah, in her travel-stained jeans and T-shirt, felt a familiar sense of inadequacy.
“I hope you are ready to apologize,” Laura said stiffly. “I don’t know what got into you, down there in Virginia. I don’t know how I’l ever forgive you.”
“Michael Dandridge is my father,” Hannah said quietly. She’d been anticipating this confrontation for days, had seen it, in her mind’s eye, painted in colors of high drama. But now that the moment had arrived, she felt curiously flat. Laura, on the other hand, was almost quivering with tension and pent-up energy. She must have known exactly what was coming, but she blanched as if Hannah had slapped her, and took a half-step backward. Hannah drew on reserves of strength that felt almost depleted and continued.