Page 44 of Breadwinner
Nell was on her instantly. Had her hands pinned to the shelves, breaths hot and heavy at her ear. The quiet command in her voice as Nell had hissed, “Don’t make a sound.” It had taken everything Sarah had to obey. Law school had been easier.
Afterward, as they had smoothed their clothes and readied themselves to rejoin the party, Sarah’s fingers had skimmed the spines of the books on the shelf she had clung to moments ago.
“Shame they don’t have the full set,” she had said. “They’re missingThe Founding Principles of Public Justice. It’s dense, but it has teeth.”
And now that very book was here, in her hands, and Nell had remembered. Not just the book or her case, but who she was—the version of herself that still believed the law could be used for something better.
Without thinking too hard, she picked up her phone and dialed. Nell answered on the first ring.
“I was wondering how long it would take you,” Nell said, her voice warm, like she’d been waiting.
Sarah exhaled, a half laugh catching on the edge of her relief. “I hope you didn’t waste too much of your time waiting for me. I’m not sure I want to know what one of your billable hours costs.”
“For you, my fee is waived,” Nell said.
“Your generosity is noted,” Sarah teased, before softening. “I got the book. It’s beautiful.”
“I thought you might like something with substance to counterbalance all the champagne and praise Clint Braxton is surely showering you with.”
Sarah leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. “You remembered my case was being decided today.”
“Of course I did. I make note of the things that are important to you,” Nell said, followed by a contemplative silence. “But you don’t sound like someone who’s just won.”
“I don’t, do I?” Sarah swiveled in her chair, turning to look out the windows. “It’s nothing, really. I’m overthinking things. I wanted to call and say thank you for the thoughtful gift, but please, don’t let me take up any more of your time.”
There was a long pause on the other end before Nell responded.
“Rule number five: time is your most valuable asset. Spend it wisely. For you, I am always available, so please don’t use the importance of my time as an excuse to not tell me how you’re feeling. If something is weighing on you, I want to hear it. Now, tell me, what’s going through that beautiful mind of yours?”
She couldn’t help but smile. The command in Nell’s voice was subtle, with the slightest hint of reprimand that wasn’t usually there. Sarah noted the boundary discovered. She had gotten used to Nell’s directness over the past few months. It was part of their agreement. Nell commanded, and Sarah obliged. Who was she to deviate from that now?
She almost explained, almost spilled out her doubts and the gnawing disquiet that had settled beneath her skin, but instead, she simply said, “It didn’t feel like a win.”
There was a pause on the other end, then Nell spoke. “Come spend Thanksgiving with me.”
Sarah blinked. “What?” she asked, wanting to make sure she had heard correctly.
“You heard me,” Nell said, unrushed. “Come to Pennsylvania. Enjoy the quiet. There will be good food, no billionaires asking you to bend your spine into another legal loophole... well, that’s not entirely true. There will be one billionaire asking you to bend, but it’s only me.”
Sarah laughed, but there was something caught in it. “I don’t know...”
She usually spent the holiday alone. Beth and Jamie used the time to take Lily on their annual vacation, while Sarah got the time between Christmas and New Year’s. She didn’t have anything tangible stopping her from going to Nell’s, but something held her back from answering with an emphatic yes.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Nell said easily. “But the invitation stands, and I’ll make sure there’s bourbon waiting. Only the best for you.”
Sarah was quiet for a long moment.
“Thank you,” she said finally. “For the book... and the escape route.”
Nell’s voice was low. “Any time. Let me know about Thanksgiving.”
The line clicked as Nell hung up. They didn’t say goodbye. They never really had to, and Sarah liked that. It was as if no conversation ever truly ended, but rather paused until it could be continued.
She looked around her quiet office. There was no use in her staying late tonight, not with her case all neatly buttoned up, so she packed up her belongings, sent a quick text to Avery, and slipped away to head home.
The next day, it was back to business as usual. There were a few interruptions from junior partners stopping by to congratulate her again, but mostly, it was back to the grind, poring over the stack of documents on her desk. An urgent knock on her door with two fast raps drew her attention. There was a pause, then, without invitation, the door was pushed open.
Sarah looked up from her monitor, ready to bring hell down upon whichever low-level attorney had the gall to interrupt her—a closed door is the universal sign for “fuck off, I’m busy”—but she was surprised when it wasn’t some junior partner but Lily standing in front of her with Wren behind her, hunched over, eyes red-rimmed, arms wrapped protectively around herself.