Chapter 9: The Last Thing Eleanor Said
The arraignment was in a courtroom on the fourth floor of the county courthouse.
Eleanor arrived with two attorneys and a woman I didn't recognize who carried her bag and held the door.
She wore a dark navy suit and her silver hair was pinned back precisely.
She looked like she was arriving at a board meeting.
She saw me when she came through the door.
She didn't look away.
Neither did I.
The proceedings took forty minutes.
The charges were read.
Eleanor entered a plea of not guilty.
A trial date was set for the following spring.
Bail was set and posted within the hour.
When it was over, Eleanor's attorneys moved quickly toward the exit.
Eleanor did not.
She walked toward me.
Dana put a hand on my arm.
I shook my head slightly.
Eleanor stopped two feet away.
"You've made a serious mistake," she said.
Her voice was low and composed.
"The company is frozen.
Forty-three people lost their jobs last week because of this.
Jared's name is finished.
And whatever you think you've won — the courts move slowly, Shelby.
My attorneys are very good."
I looked at her.
"I know your attorneys are good," I said.
"I also know about the woman in 2021.
The one your previous case involved.
Her name was Patricia Osei.
She was married to a Harlan Media regional director.
She had a similar surgery under similar circumstances.
Her case stalled because she didn't have a Dr.
Fell willing to talk."
Eleanor's composure did not break.
But something shifted behind her eyes.
"Patricia has agreed to testify," I said.
"Dana reached her last month."
A pause.
Very small.
Very controlled.
"You should have taken the settlement," Eleanor said.
"You should have left my body alone," I said.
She held my gaze for one more moment.
Then she turned and walked out with her attorneys.
At the door, she said something to the woman who carried her bag.
The woman nodded and they moved through the corridor without looking back.
Dana appeared at my shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Yes."
"She'll fight this for two years minimum."
"I know." I picked up my bag.
"I have time."
We walked out into the courthouse hallway.
It smelled like floor wax and recycled air.
A man in a suit rushed past us with a stack of folders.
A woman near the elevator was on the phone, speaking quietly with her hand cupped around her mouth.
May you like
Ordinary things.
I had forgotten how good ordinary things felt.
