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Chapter Fifteen

"Breathe, baby," Samirah called to me while I paced the hall outside the room where the parole hearing began a little while ago. Rebecca stood by, her gaze on me, while she spoke quietly to our lawyer.

Sam hadn't seen me truly upset, and I thought I'd held myself together pretty well in front of her until that moment. My heart raced, my face burned, and my hands shook as I fought the impending panic at the thought of facing my mother, now twenty years older than when I last saw her.

"Rosie." Sam's arms caught me around the middle in such a delicate embrace that it almost felt ethereal until the warmth of her had me leaning in. "Come sit with me."

I listened to her when she urged me to the bench against the wall. She pulled me into her lap, and nudged me to meet her gaze with a single finger under my chin. Her tense, worried expression didn't do much to soothe me, but her comforting smile brought a smirk to my lips.

"I'm having a panic attack," I told her and she nodded.

"I see this. You're a very controlled panicker," she said, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"It's exhausting," I said, sounding a little breathless.

"I have you, baby." She hugged me and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders while she kissed my cheek. In her arms, I calmed down some and she rubbed my back. "I love your outfit, by the way. The suspenders and the bi-color flats are adorable."

I laughed softly and leaned back to look at her. "Shh."

"No way. I'm going to celebrate you even if the moment is inappropriate." She smiled fully now, the light in her eyes quelling some of my worry.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"I wouldn't have missed it, my sweet." She took both of my hands in hers and kissed my knuckles.

Rebecca approached us, crouching down to kneel in front of me. She placed her hand on my knee to get my attention. "You're sure about this, Rosie?"

I nodded, drawing in a deep breath.

"Did you take your medicine today, sweetie?" Rebecca tucked my hair behind my ear. Part of me wanted to snap at her for the question, but a larger part understood her intention.

"I'm okay without it," I asserted, for the second time that day.

Rebecca's eyes flickered back and forth as she searched my expression. "Positive?"

I nodded and leaned my head against Sam's. She rubbed my back and the two of them shared a glance.

"Okay. George said we're about ready to head in. They did all the beginning proceedings, and now they're about to hear your mother speak. We can go in after if you prefer, but it's up to you," Rebecca said, taking my hand when I fiddled with the pleat in my slacks.

"We can go in," I said, my voice soft.

Rebecca glanced to the lawyer then back to me. "All right."

Without further discussion, we stood, Sam's hand held tightly in mine, and headed in once they called us.

Part of me expected a courtroom style setup, but in the smaller space, it appeared more like a panel discussion than court. A row of people sat at the front—men and women in various business attire—facing the spot where my mother sat. The back of her head, still shades of dirty-blonde similar to mine, nearly tripped me up. She wore a tidy pantsuit, and appeared lawyer-like from her profile. Age captured her in a manner I foresaw, but I didn't expect her to appear attractive and well. My insides twisted, both with anger and disgust. Even in her punishment, the universe granted her wellness which seemed hardly fair. She turned in her chair, glassy eyes falling on me, and a single tear tumbled down her cheek. I pulled my gaze away and looked to Rebecca.

She was there in an instant, moving to stand beside me and taking my other hand. The way she positioned herself blocked my mother from view.

The last time I saw her, she stood at the door of the hotel room, hundred-dollar bills crumpled in her palms after she sold me to the highest bidder. It was the only thing I could see for a moment.

"She's ripe, Vic. As promised. What've you got for me?" she said, her face expressionless but her eyes clamoring with excitement.

"If she's uncooperative, you've lost a customer," said the man who had no face in my memories as he pushed the money into her hands. "Get your fix." He smiled at me, his hand in my hair. "While I have mine."

"Rosie," Sam whispered against my ear. "I want you to breathe with me." She hugged my arm to her chest. "Follow how I breathe."

I nodded, blinking away the tears that leapt from my lashes. I listened to her, and drew in breaths when she did, and out in time. Rebecca kissed my temple and sandwiched me between them, I closed my eyes for a moment to allow the memories to pass. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have let my anger guide me to this endeavor.