“Mr. Hooker? What does he have to do with this?” I asked, relieved at a shift in topic.
“Well, everything. The information that you intercepted from Mr. Hooker was actually information he gave to me. We knew Franklin wanted that information, and if he could get his hands on it, he would try to. We had to make it seem like the information came from us. Jeff knew you were coming and he knew why you were there.”
“And now Franklin has information he shouldn’t because of me?” I asked, feeling guilty.
“Oh no, I wanted Franklin to know what was on it. I wanted him to know that I was about to take him down.”
“But now he has the information and you don’t,” I said.
“Danielle, we made a copy. . . .” Law said with an expression that suggested that I should already have known this.
“I don’t know how any of that computer stuff works,” I said with the wave of a hand, “Aren’t you worried that if he knows what you know that he’ll just come after you?”
“I suspect he will, and I worry for the consequences for everyone here. I think we’re ready though. It’s time to end his reign over this city. He should never become mayor.”
“You think he really has a chance?” I asked.
“He already has the majority for his party, there’s no opposing party candidate running, and with the passing of his son, he’s likely to get the sympathy vote.”
“Wait, what did you just say? What happened to his son?” I asked, horrified.
“Well, he drowned. . .” Law said slowly, glancing at me suspiciously.
“When?” I asked, as my heart throbbed in my chest.
“In November,” he said.
“What day?” I exhaled.
“It was about a week before Thanksgiving. You were still working for him. Did you know his son?” he asked.
“No,” I replied quickly, wanting to retreat as far away from the conversation as possible, “So what did Franklin do to you?”
“Well I’m from Lantis, born and raised on the bad side of town. Throughout my life, I never faltered. I never fell into the wrong crowd, never did drugs, wasn’t involved in gangs or crime or anything like that. I knew my goals and I was determined to get there at whatever cost.”
“What was your goal?”
“To be a lawyer,” he said.
“Ah, ‘Law’, I get it now.”
“Yes. Well, I set out to do it. I got scholarships to the best schools, I got the grades, I got into law school, and finished with exemplary marks.”
“So you’re a lawyer?” I asked, mildly shocked by the information.
“No, not yet,”
“Well, when did you finish law school?”
“About a decade ago.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, I finished school and came back home to visit my family and celebrate. I registered to take the bar exam here, as I had gone to law school out of state, but I wanted to practice here. The night before my exam, I was out driving, just trying to clear my head. A car going about fifty miles per hour comes ripping through a stop sign of a relatively secluded road and t-boned my car.
“I remember coming to and seeing one of the passengers of the car lying across the hood of my car. Her face was just covered in blood and ripped apart. It was quite a disturbing sight. I had never seen anything like that to that date. I got out of the car to go check on her, but she was already gone. As I went to the driver’s seat, there was Franklin, knocked out, bloodied face, shards of glass stuck in his arms, his foot mangled under the front end of the car that had crumbled in, stooped over the steering wheel. The car reeked of alcohol. There was a bottle of vodka shattered between the floorboard and his lap. It had spilled all over the inside of the car and drenched the air with its stench. I pulled his foot free, and as I did, he started coming to.
“He was terrified when he woke. I told him that everything would be okay. He asked where his wife was. I didn’t know what to tell him. He tried to get out of the car. As he tried to get out of the car, a part of the center console that had pierced into his side was ripped from him. He began bleeding profusely. He looked up at me and just started crying and telling me he was going to die. I told him he wasn’t going to die. I used my gift and I healed him in that moment. I thought I was doing the right thing. What am I saying? Of course it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t just let a man die when I had the ability to help him.
“Anyway, law enforcement arrived on scene. They knew Franklin, he was the District Judge’s son. I did not realize what was going on at first. Then they started questioning me. They asked me if I had been drinking, and then they did a field sobriety test. Still, I wasn’t worried. I watched them step away and talk amongst themselves. They kept glancing over at me as they made phone calls. I thought maybe Franklin had told them something about my gift and was slightly worried, but saving someone’s life at the risk of possibly exposing my gift, I was willing to deal with.
Nothing could have prepared me for the moment they arrested me for intoxication manslaughter. I was completely dumbfounded. I assumed they‘d made a mistake. They set my bond at a million dollars. My family couldn’t come up with the money to bond me out, and my court appointed attorney had good intentions, but he was
