Page 73 of Frankie and the Fed

“Outside my building?”

“Yes. The public seems to like you. Take a look.”

I hang up and glance at the headline in the link he’s sent me.

“What’s going on?” Ayala asks, her eyes big and wide.

“It turns out the civil case is gaining momentum online.”

She flinches when I say this.

“It’s not what you think. There’s a growing movement that demands dismissal of the case.”

“What?”

“Looks like posting those photos is making noise, but not the kind Summers planned for. The Summers only intended to post Michael’s photo. They wanted to shock. Make me look like a cold-blooded killer. Make you nothing more than a cheating wife. They want to destroy my reputation and my businesses with it. Your photos were published by mistake. I know you didn’t want it, but it benefitted us. The public is calling the Summers family murderers and you the hero. The public is taking your side. Ours.”

She looks surprised. “I don’t want them to take my side. I want it to go away.”

“I know. But we can’t go back in time, and this is the way it is. Ryan says they’ve organized a protest near the building. A show of support for us.”

I get up and go look out the window. There are more than I expected. Crowds of people gather outside, carrying large signs. “Michael Summers is a murderer!” “Ayala, we are behind you!” “Dismiss the case!”

Ayala comes and stands next to me. Her jaw drops as she sees the crowds.

“They’re actually here for us,” she says in shock. “I want to see what they’ve written about me.”

“Are you sure?” I don’t think this is a good idea. She still hasn’t recovered from the story a few days ago.

“I need to know.” She goes to the room to get her phone, comes back, and sinks onto the couch.

As she reads, I follow her expression with growing anxiety.

“They’re calling for the Summers to dismiss the case against us. They hate Michael’s parents.”

She sounds... I can’t decide. Amazed?

“Are you alright?”

She shakes her head. “They call me a hero. I’m not a hero.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I laid there helpless. You saved me.”

A snort escapes me. “I was dying on the floor, and you were fighting him.Yousavedme.”

She comes closer to me and puts her arms around my waist. “If you hadn’t come, I’d still be locked to that bed.”

I close my eyes, and she kisses me, her lips soft on mine. A gentle, caressing kiss.

“Okay, so we saved each other.”

* * *

Ayala behaves strangely over the following days. As if she’s daydreaming, I often find her deep in thought. She’s busy writing all kinds of notes to herself with a determined look on her face. It’s better than the depressed mood from before, but it bothers me that she doesn’t share with me what she’s thinking. I don’t know if I should be worried or happy.

At noon Ayala bursts into my home office. “I just talked to Dr. Sullivan.”