Gifting Him the Bright Sky

I never imagined that after all these years, I'd see Wayne Donaldson again in a prison.

Me locked inside. Him standing outside.

The badge that named him chief attorney gleamed so hard it hurt my eyes.

I remembered, a long time ago.

The one who swore she'd get into Ashford and become a lawyer was me.

The one who chased Wayne down and cursed him out was me too.

And the one who threatened to report him herself if he ever strayed from the straight path, that was me as well.

"0714, we need to conduct your final review before release."

I came back to myself and sat up straight.

By the book, I said everything I was supposed to say.

I'd been sentenced to five years. For meritorious conduct, two years were cut.

If today went smoothly, I could be out next month.

It would be a lie to say I didn't crave freedom.

But now that I was actually getting out, I didn't know how I was supposed to face those people.

"0714, describe your meritorious conduct in detail."

"I designed a surveillance system that can help upgrade the prison's monitoring integration process."

"Did you do it yourself, or did someone help you?"

"Every technical process and patent is on record. Lawyer Donaldson can review them anytime."

Wayne and the accompanying officer applied to pull the files.

The overhead light was harsh.

I kept my head down, looking at the handcuffs on my wrists.

"0714, three years ago you were turned by a criminal organization. What was your motive?"

Wayne's voice reached my ears.

I didn't want to look at him.

I repeated the reason the same way I had hundreds, thousands of times before.

I didn't actually have to answer this question.

This was a file retrieval, not a review.

The conversation during this part wouldn't go on record.

Wayne had taken off the listening device and blocked the camera.

He shaped each word with his lips:

"Gladys Harding, you can trust me. I can help you."

He was still the way I remembered him.

"I want you to tell me the real reason."

Three years in prison, I'd heard that line until my ears had gone numb.

"I did it willingly. No reason, no hardship, nothing hidden."

"Wayne, you're only now trying to play the hero? Bit late for that."

I studied him, the veins on his hands standing out more sharply because of my mockery.

Five minutes later.

The accompanying officer pushed the door open.

After a few more routine questions, today's interrogation ended.

The policewoman told me Wayne didn't accept my stated motive for release and had filed a request for reexamination.

But he wasn't the one who made the final call.

His judgment only factored into the evaluation. I'd already met the conditions for release.

A month later, I stepped out of prison as I'd hoped.

Wayne was waiting at the gate.

Waiting at the gate along with Wayne was a row of black cars.

That was the mark of the Taylor family of the port city.

In the very first car sat the man who now held power in the Taylor family, Fabian Taylor.

The same man who'd put me in prison.

A bodyguard stepped forward and took the things I'd carried out with me.

I hesitated, then got into Fabian's car anyway.

The Maybach's engine roared to life.

Wayne blocked the car again.

I didn't want to make a scene here.

I glanced at Fabian beside me, whose face had already gone sour, and got out of the car.

I gave the diamond ring newly settled on my finger a little shake.

"As you can see, I got married three years ago. Now I'm going home."

"By law, whatever I do after my release is none of your business, is it, Lawyer Donaldson?"

The words didn't make Wayne back off.

Instead, whatever madness had gotten into him,

he actually reached out, right there in front of everyone, and grabbed hold of me.

"He put you in there, and you're still leaving with him?"

I hadn't wanted to say much more to Wayne.

But that question, he had no right to ask.

"What else? Should I leave with you instead?"

"Lawyer Donaldson, weren't you the one who wouldn't pass my release review? Wanted me to stay in there and watch you flex your power?"

My hand rubbed together out of habit.

Jason Fox, who'd always followed me, caught it.

He lit a cigarette, bowed at ninety degrees, and passed it to my hand.

I took it, practiced.

If there was one thing I'd never gotten used to in prison, it was probably this.

I blew out a ring of smoke, and it landed square on Wayne's face.

He frowned, staring at me, saying nothing.

Fabian rapped on the car door from inside.

I knew what he meant. He was getting impatient.

"See you around, if fate allows, Lawyer Donaldson."

"Though you know as well as I do, us meeting again is never a good thing."

"After all, you're exactly the kind of upstanding person I hate most now"

I flicked the cigarette.

A few flecks of ash fell onto Wayne's glossy black suit.

I straightened his collar for him, and in a voice only the two of us could hear, I gave him a warning.

"Stay away from me."

"Or I won't let you off next time."

By the end of the drive I could have recited the plainclothes officers' badge numbers, that was how long they'd trailed our motorcade.

But the Taylor cars rolled straight through the gates of the old estate without a care.

After a release from prison, coming to the old estate to burn incense and thank the ancestors for their protection was tradition here.

I offered the incense properly.

Three bows, three prostrations.

A whole wall of Taylor ancestral tablets looked down on me from above.

Fabian said the first thing he'd said to me since we'd met.

"I thought you did it, back then, for me."

The bodyguards knew better than to linger, and withdrew.

The moment we reached the old estate they'd made me change into the traditional Taylor dress.

Such garbage rules.

Every Taylor woman who came before the family hall had to wear one.

And of course the one Fabian had picked for me was slit halfway up the thigh.

The instant I knelt, most of my leg was bared.

I went to free a hand to hold the hem down, then remembered I was still holding the incense.

My hand jerked, and the ash burned me.

It stung.

Fabian's eyes flicked over me.

He took the incense from my hand and set it in the burner for me.

Then, in the next breath, he swept a whole row of the ancestral tablets in front of us aside.

The tablets clattered down across the floor.

Some of them cracked clean in two the instant they hit.

He turned back, his eyes fixed on me, and pressed me down onto the prayer cushion.

A lunatic, plain and simple.

Half an hour later, Fabian carried me out of the old estate.

I'd been worn out until I had nothing left, and could only lean into him.

I really did need to start working out.

Three years locked up in there, and my body was nothing like it used to be.

Seeing me rarely so docile, Fabian bit my lip with a particular satisfaction.

Then tossed me into the car.

Another time.

It was near dusk before we got back to Fabian's villa in South Garden.

He pressed his mouth to my ear and asked,

"Do you hate me? For sending you in?"

I nodded, perfectly honest.

"All that talk with that Wayne person, whatever his name is. What are you playing at?"

"Nothing."

I pushed Fabian off.

I smoothed back the hair at my temples, long since damp with sweat.

"There's no need for the two of us to keep pretending to be decent people."

"What you promised me, give it to me soon, or I can't promise I won't say something I shouldn't."

Fabian gripped my chin.

I wasn't afraid.

I tilted my face up and let him see it clearly.

"Tomorrow."

"Fine."

Fabian still didn't quite trust me, in the end.

When I came out after my shower, changed into a nightgown,

he was leaning against the sofa, studying me.

He told me to rest well, then turned to leave.

As he went, I baited him on purpose.

"You're not afraid of me, are you?"

"Afraid I'll kill you while you sleep."

Fabian didn't answer me.

He pulled me half against him by the waist and undid the silk tie at the front.

The already loose nightgown fell open like a folding fan.

His fingers slid down over the fabric, barely there.

The slick drag of it made me shiver despite myself.

"Yes. I'm afraid of you."

"Afraid the famous top of her class from Ashford, Attorney Gladys Harding, will report me."

Top of her class.

Attorney Gladys Harding.

It felt like something from another life.

After savoring the moment my face went cold, the look of me forcing down my anger, Fabian let me go.

Hands raised over his head.

Playing at surrender, he backed out through the bedroom door.

That smirk on his face really did cut into me.

It hurt more than seeing Wayne's chief-attorney credentials had, back when I was still inside.

When I woke the next morning, Fabian was gone, just as I'd expected.

What I'd asked for was already sitting on the cabinet beside the bed.

A staggering sum of money, and the old case files.

But it was exactly what I'd anticipated.

Everything they'd let me see had already been scrubbed clean.

That massive case from three years agoevery detail now looked as neat and tidy as a textbook example manufactured for a criminal investigation course.

These were sealed files, and yet Fabian had managed to set them on my nightstand the very morning after I asked.

What made it more interesting still was that this was the case that had put me away.

And it carried my own signature.

Someone else's handwriting could be forged.

But my own handwriting.

My finger traced over the two words signed there. Gladys Harding.

Three years ago, back when I was still the youngest partner at the metropolitan law firm, I had signed it myself.

Every piece of it was too perfect.

No wonder Fabian felt so untouchable.

"I want to see Wayne Donaldson."

I'd thought it would take some effort to get Fabian to agree.

But when I handed the file to Jason, he told me Fabian had already arranged it.

Today, at noon.

Fabian had invited everyone who'd been involved in the case back then to a meal.

Except the ones who'd died, and the ones still behind bars.

Which left only me, Fabian, and Wayne.

By the time I arrived, Wayne was already waiting inside.

He swept a glance over me, then looked away.

The bodyguards closed in around me, penning me in the middleclearly on Fabian's orders, as if afraid Wayne might do something to me.

I had no control over these bodyguards.

I didn't even have control over the clothes on my back.

Today's outfit could certainly convince anyone that I was Mrs. Taylor of the Taylor family of the port city.

"I read the old case file. There's no problem with it."

"Would you like a look, Lawyer Donaldson? After all, at your current rank, you can bring me in for questioning."

"But that old caseyou shouldn't have the clearance to see it."

"I can help you. After all, we're"

Wayne shot me a glance.

"We're what?"

"Ex-lovers, engaged, or old flames?"

"So it turns out a connection like that lets me view the very file I've been requesting from the director for three years."

"Let me get a good look at exactly how you got those eleven people killed back then."

I gave an indifferent nod.

It wasn't that I couldn't hear the mockery in Wayne's voice.

But I still wanted him to take a look, because everything back then had been handled too fast.

We hadn't even seen each other once after it all went wrong.

I put on a show of anger and hurled the file straight at Wayne's face.

The thick folder split the skin on his forehead, and it bled.

I laughed, delighted.

Clapping my hands and pretending to beg forgiveness.

"So sorry, Lawyer Donaldson. My hand slipped."

Wayne pressed his brows together, his eyes filled with disappointment in me.

I stepped forward, the bodyguards trailing every step.

All I could do was crouch and gather the pages scattered across the floor.

Pretending it was careless, I pulled out the one I suspected.

Hand on my hip, I held it up and waved it in front of Wayne.

"Look, it's all dirty now."

I gave his chest a flippant little tap with my finger.

"Stop digging into it. I've already served three years locked up. For old times' sake, just let me go."

The coquettish note in my voice made Wayne take a few steps back.

Inside, I was pleading.

Hoping Wayne would understand, would at least take one look.

That single page was the only thing I'd found that didn't match my memory of what had happened.

"Gladdie, show some respect for Lawyer Donaldson."

Fabian's voice came from behind me.

He pulled me into his arms, staking his claim.

"Forgive her, Lawyer Donaldson. Three years locked awaymy wife's bound to carry some resentment."

Fabian waved a hand, and someone set a thick stack of cash down in front of Wayne.

"For the medical bill."

Wayne didn't spare the money a single glance and went straight to the point.

He asked what we'd brought him here for.

Fabian toyed with my hand.

When his fingers found the shooting calluses on it, he let out a small, regretful sigh.

"A shame these calluses never fade. Such lovely hands, wasted."

Wayne, left standing off to the side, darkened and said he had official business and needed to leave.

Fabian stopped him.

He said, without a trace of concern:

"Whether you have official business, your director knows best. Otherwise I'd never have gotten the great, endlessly busy Lawyer Donaldson to come at all."

"But there's really nothing to it today. I simply made a bet with my wife."

"My wife told me her ex-boyfriend was a fool. I didn't believe her, so I had a look for myself today."

"And it seems my wife won."

Fabian was plainly out to humiliate Wayne.

I found it funny.

An insult like that, back in the day, might have angered Wayne.

But the Wayne standing here now was not the Wayne he'd been.

And what's more, my weight in Wayne's heart was no longer what it had been either.

The person I was now was the mastermind behind that old case.

The one who'd gotten his mentor killed, gotten his brothers killed.

A traitor. Fabian's lapdog.

Wayne looked at me, long and hard.

Fabian caught the look and shoved me behind him, all possessiveness.

Wayne asked, expressionless:

"Can I go now?"

Fabian tipped his chin toward the door, telling Wayne he was free to go.

I hadn't been out a full day, and already one thing was clear to me.

If three years ago the Taylors had still held themselves in check,

then the Taylors now could do whatever they pleased in the port city.

I didn't stop Fabian.

Better that Wayne leave after a round of humiliation than get himself tangled in this again.

I watched him walk away.

Behind me, Fabian pinched my waist.

The gesture on his hand was punishing, but the words out of his mouth came with a coaxing edge.

"Happy? I hear a girl likes it when she sees an ex and finds out he's not doing well."

I put away my worry for Wayne and turned a cold face on Fabian.

"That one doesn't apply to me."

His face went cold in the same instant.

He gripped my chin and forced my head up to look at him.

"Gladys, you know what I'm angry about?"

"It's not that you still carry a torch for him."

"What makes me angry is that trash like him, and you actually can't let go?"

"A dog like that, if you really want one, I'll find you a dozen, let you play until you're sick of it."

I saw the contempt clear in his eyes.

I asked back, almost amused,

"Then what about me?"

"To you, aren't I just like Wayne, a dog of a thing too?"

"Should I be grateful to you as well, thank you for enjoying yourself so much playing with me?"

His fingers traced lightly across my cheek.

"Yeah. So I'm a real bastard."

He turned me by the waist and pinned me against the wall.

Another storm swept over me.

This time I bit Fabian's neck raw with hatred, clawed his back open.

Afterward, he lit a cigarette.

He blew out a long, satisfied stream of smoke, then handed the cigarette to me.

He said,

"Let's start over. All right?"

"We'll act like none of it ever happened. We start over."

I lay limp in his arms and nodded without a sound.

On the way back, I lay against Fabian's chest.

This starting over he wanted was in no way him letting me off.

Lucky for me, I hadn't planned on begging either.

I hadn't forgotten.

Wayne, me, Fabian, none of us was ever supposed to end up like this.

"That business back then, it left a bad taste."

"If we really are starting over, Fabian, then let's start a whole new round."

"This time, we play it well."

I looked out at the busy traffic streaming past outside the port city.

But in the corner of my eye I could clearly see the light flare up in Fabian's eyes.

He raised an eyebrow.

Then turned it around and tried to talk me out of it.

He said the risk was too high, the Taylors were nearly clean by now, no need to gamble.

"Don't think I don't know. You want to drag me down into it with you."

Fabian tapped my forehead.

He let me lean my whole weight against him.

This was a probing they both understood for what it was.

"Fabian, I'm dirty. This life of mine will never come clean again."

I waved my hand in front of him.

"These hands have eleven lives on them."

"The one to blame is you."

"I hate you."

"But right now you're the only one who can really take me in."

We were so close that Fabian's breath spilled over my neck.

It tickled.

The moment I said I hated him, his laugh was far too plain.

Fabian was waiting for the rest of it.

But right up until our car pulled to a stop, I didn't open my mouth again.

We held there a while, and then Fabian hauled me out of the car and gave in.

He said fine, he'd take it.

He'd play along.

That line was exactly what I'd been waiting for.

But I didn't move fast.