Chapter 4: The Conference Room
So I brought her into the firm’s conference room.
I flicked on the harsh fluorescent lights, the room still littered with yesterday’s coffee cups and a stack of unused legal pads. I gestured for her to take a seat at the long table where we usually grilled witnesses or hashed out depositions. The room felt cold, the hum of the overhead lights echoing against the glass.
"May I ask your name?"
"My name is Hannah Bell. I’m 24, studying abroad in the United States," she said. "I just returned to Ohio a month ago."
Her voice quavered, but she looked me right in the eye. I could tell she’d rehearsed this, over and over, before working up the nerve to come here.
To prove she wasn’t lying, she showed me her driver’s license, her undergraduate diploma from Ohio State, and proof of enrollment at a grad school in New York.
I glanced over them—they were all from top universities. She was clearly an outstanding student.
The name matched the photo, and the papers were all legit—Buckeye colors on the diploma, a faded photo from her freshman year. I wondered what would drive someone with her resume to show up at my office, looking half-broken.
"Hello, Ms. Bell." I returned her documents and got straight to the point. "I’m very busy today, but since this concerns a matter of life and death, I’ve cleared my schedule. We have the afternoon—please, tell me: how can a person be evidence?"
I pulled out a legal pad, uncapped my favorite pen, and waited. The silence stretched, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall.
"Thank you, Attorney Martin." She pushed her hair aside, her expression tense and urgent.
Her hands were shaking, but her voice was steadier now. She looked at me, her eyes searching, as if weighing whether to trust me with the truth she carried.
"First of all, I want to say: I’ve always believed there are strange things in this world. Since I was little, there have been many secrets around me. I keep recalling the past, trying to make sense of it all, but I’ve never been able to get to the truth.
"It wasn’t until now that I finally found the real answer. This answer is crucial to the case. Please, you must help me."
She leaned forward, almost whispering, her breath fogging up the surface of the conference table. The sincerity in her plea hit me unexpectedly hard.
"Go ahead."
At that time, I still had no idea what kind of shock this case would bring me.
I tried to hide my skepticism, but deep down, I felt a jolt of anticipation. Something about this felt bigger than the usual client sob story. I braced myself for whatever came next.