Reclaim: A Recovered Innocence Novel Read Free

“We’re still a little short handed around here. You’ve been so great about working overtime and filling in, I hate to ask…”
    “Whatever you need.”
    “Since you helped me pick the case I’d like you to take lead on it. I’ll help. It’s not like I’d be leaving you on your own. It’s just that the work you’ve been doing has been really great and I’d like you to start heading up a few cases. Jerry’s been making noises about retiring, and with Mr. Nash in semi-retirement already we really need another lead investigator around here. You’ve more than shown you can handle it. This could be a training case. Leads make more money and you’d get out of the office more. What do you say?”
    I open my mouth to speak—because she clearly expects a response—but nothing comes out except a squeak. A horrible, embarrassing squeak. I cough to cover it up. She’s caught me totally off guard. Her eyes are hopeful and before I form the thought I’m nodding.
What am I doing?
Make it stop.
    “Sure,” I say, completing the humiliation. My brain is melting down. While it burns the rest of me goes on automatic, responding totally separately from my mind. I can almost smell the smoke that is surely bellowing out my ears.
    “Oh,
thank you,
” Cora says. Her smile fans the flames. Sirens go off in my head. “I’ll set up the appointment for us to meet with the Freedom Project staff attorney,” she continues, totally unaware of the mass casualties in my skull. “You’re going to do great. Just great.” She backs away toward the door. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
    Before I can stop her she’s gone.
    What have I done?

Chapter 2
Lila
    I’m late. I hate being late. I hate people who show up late even more. Now I’m one of them. There was a jam-up at the coroner’s office so it took me forever to get a copy of Diego Ruiz’s autopsy. I’ve got it and am now racing across town to meet the private investigator that will be helping with Carla Ruiz’s case. I’m lucky. Nash Security and Investigation has a stellar reputation. Carla deserves the best.
    I’ve never worked with them so I haven’t been to their offices. Recently they were instrumental in freeing two men who were wrongfully convicted. I’m hoping they’ve got what it will take to free Carla too. I hope
I’ve
got what it takes. I’ve never encountered a case that touched me the way this one does. The form she filled out to have her case considered by The Freedom Project reads like a note one of my parents might have written. The sentences are all in English, but they’re broken and the word order is wrong in places.
    I feel her pain in each carefully chosen word. I also feel her confusion, anger, and deep sense of betrayal. She illegally crossed the border from Mexico to the United States with her father and brother when she was a small child just like I did. And just like Carla and her family, my father, my mother pregnant with my sister, and I came to America with the hope of a better life. That wasn’t what Carla got. That’s not exactly what I got either.
    The end of her story hasn’t been written yet. She can still have the life she dreamed of. Or at least a close approximation. I can’t give her back her son, but I can possibly give her back her life. We’re not supposed to make promises to our clients at The Freedom Project. That wouldn’t be fair. But I make one to myself—that I’ll exhaust every avenue, pursue every lead. I won’t quit until I’ve done everything I can to free her. I am her. She is me. We are one in our shared experiences. I can give her something she probably has never had—hope.
    When she’s free I can help her through the process of getting her paperwork to stay in the U.S. We speak the same language and know the same fears. I can help her rebuild her life. Through my ties to the immigrant community I can help her find a job and an apartment. But first I have to fight for her