Felicity Cooper, or Flic as some of her friends called her— Who was she kidding? She had no friends. Not ones she could trust with her secrets or life. She had plenty of hangers-on, girls who clustered around her in her social groups like cleaner fish hovering around the corners of a shark’s mouth.
They wanted to be around her because she was pretty. Girls wanted to be her, guys tried everything in their power to sleep with her, and with everything that went on in college, she couldn’t allow their distractions to stop her from achieving her goal: pass with straight A’s and grab the only few well-paying jobs around.
But all that came to a crushing halt when Jason posted his video of her online.
She didn’t even remember the asshole taking it.
She recalled the blurry night where clothes had been stripped off, but she remembered saying no and him replying…something. Then, before she knew it, she woke up with a banging headache and her clothes covering the bedroom floor. She hadn’t even drunk that much.
Flic put the whole thing down to having one too many, but as she checked her phone and saw one message after the next, she wanted to be sick.
She clicked on the link one of her friends sent her and stared, horrified at what she saw.
The video of her showing so much flesh— She leaned over the bed and threw up.
That had been months ago, and from there, things only got worse.
She was kicked out of college for not having the right values. Then when she protested and said it wasn’t her fault, Jason’s family got involved and paid everyone to keep quiet. Their yearly donations to the school board also didn’t hurt. When her friends came forward with lies about her wild ways and tricking guys into sleeping with her, it was all the evidence they needed to slam the door in her face.
Gone was her education and plan to get a good job.
Gone was her chance to take care of her little sister, Jess.
She tried to enroll in other colleges, but with the video becoming viral, they took one look at her name and didn’t even grant her an interview.
She was turning nineteen and out of options; there was nothing she could do. She tried getting a job, but with no prior experience, and more than one male employer giving her looks and knowing smirks, her options quickly ran out. Some had offered to give her a position under them, but she knew what they really meant.
Money was fast running out. She thought of what to do to save her little sister. The grant money she got from college covered both their needs, barely. But now the money she saved wouldn’t last for another month unless she did something drastic.
She finished sweeping the vinyl kitchen floor, the green color since faded, leaving nothing but a patchy white canvas. She checked and double checked the cupboards, using as little strength as possible to open the doors, hanging by loose screws and peeling glue. Each cupboard was stocked with enough food to last Jess for the next few months.
Setting the broom to one side, she walked into the living room, which took one step from the kitchen, and looked at the threadbare sofa, taken from outside the house of someone who didn’t want it anymore. The coffee table made of cinder blocks and a piece of glass, all found in various skips and construction sites, sat center stage in the room, taking up more space than was useful, and that was it.
The only thing of value was Jess’s paintings covering the walls.
As talented as any Van Gogh or Picasso, her tutors saw big things on her horizon. She had won all the major art competitions in the city and a few international ones as well. She had fans—fans!—who followed her every move on social media, but despite all that, her true passion was helping the less fortunate. Always the humanitarian, she wanted to support anyone she could and would give away her last meal, even if she was hungry.
Flic shook her head and took out the letter from her lawyer.
“What do you mean they’re suing me?” she asked her lawyer.
“The Baldwin Estate is pushing for legal matters, because they believe you have slandered their son and hindered his future chances regarding education and employment.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? That piece of shit drugged and videoed me. I’ve been blackballed from every college and job in this city. It’s them I should sue for slander. How can they do this?”
Her lawyer gave her a sad smile. “In cases like this, one party sues the other before the other party can sue them first. Especially when the person in question doesn’t have the funds to defend a counterclaim and sue them back.”
“So you’re saying they’re suing me, so I have no money after this to sue them back?”
He gave her a nod.
The small office above an Italian deli felt like a sweltering cage as perspiration made the blouse she wore stick to her body. She pulled on it to get some air, but the wet fabric clung to her skin, making her feel worse.
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“Half a million,” she whispered.
“That’s only if you fight the case and lose. If you pled guilty, then they will take two hundred and fifty thousand.”
Felicity let out a bitter bark.
“It could be worse.”
“How?” she asked, throwing her hands in the air.
“They wanted a million, but I argued it was unreasonable to expect someone of your age to come up with the means to pay that.”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand isn’t much better! It may as well be two hundred and fifty million!”
The lawyer gave nothing as he let her vent. She wondered how many people in this exact moth-eaten brown chair, where the seat no longer had any cushion and you sat on nothing but wood, had passed through here.
How many hopeless cases like hers did he see? How many times did he put on the plastic smile while his eyes darted to the clock, waiting—praying—that his clients would see how unwinnable their case was and leave?
“Is there nothing I can do to fight this?”
He said nothing while he looked at her papers like a doctor looking at his notes on his terminally ill patient.
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
“I’m not saying I’m guilty! Hell will freeze over and The Ascendant will be defeated before I do.”
He sighed. “Can I be honest with you, dear?” She nodded. “I see cases like yours all the time. People with power making people without pay for their mistakes. It used to be different, or that’s what people used to say before the portal opened. But now with the way things are, and everyone just trying to survive, it’s a dog-eat-cat-eat-rat world out there.”
“Isn’t the saying ‘dog eat dog’?”
“It was when things were fairer.”
Felicity shook her head. “But even if I lose, I’ll be paying them off most of my life. I can’t afford to do that and look after my sister.”
“No parents?”
“They were drafted ten years ago to try to defeat The Ascendant. My auntie took care of us until a few years ago, before she passed away.”
“What a waste of human life that endeavor was.”
She nodded. When the portal opened and The Ascendant made his presence known and set the commandments in place, governments across the world drafted what was left of humanity to try to defeat him.
What they found on The Other Side was nothing but hell.
A few teams still loyal to their country made it to the top, but he crushed all opposition who stood before him until his reign was declared an act of God.
Now, only the foolhardy tried to defeat him, and even those were getting less and less.
“I know your pride wants you to fight,” he continued, “but think about your sister. If you go through with this, and you lose, then they will take everything from you. Your sister, your wealth, your health, your pride.”
Felicity bit her lip and stared out of the window with its chipped windowsill and looked at the brick wall the view offered.
What was she to do?
The choice was akin to choosing between having your leg or arm amputated.
She closed her eyes. What would her parents do?
She knew the answer even before she thought about it.
“If I fight,” she said, opening her eyes, “do I need to get someone else to represent me?”
He looked at her, affronted.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Mr. Fienberg, but since I’ve been here, you’ve only spoken about defeat and giving in, and your establishment hardly gives one the impression of success.”
He smiled at her before running his hands through his thinning gray hair. Getting up from where he sat, he walked to a drawer and pulled out a faded ring binder, once black, but now turned gray with age.
He opened it and turned it in her direction.
“You see this,” he said, pointing to a fresh-faced younger version of himself, shaking hands with another gentleman in front of a building made of glass and metal. “This is me with my law partner, Ari Goldman. We started a law firm together, which became the most successful in the country. Young, dumb and full of cu”—he coughed, cheeks turning red—“energy, I thought the world was my oyster, as corny as that sounds. We were winning cases by the bucketload. No one could beat us.
“With more money than sense, I spent what I earned as quick as I got it. I was on top of the world. But it wasn’t enough for Ari, who wanted to partner with…customers that would make your skin crawl just by being in the same room as them. I pushed against the idea, but he didn’t want to hear it. So he did what any self-respecting lawyer would do, and he stole my company from out underneath me.
“I wasn’t worried, though. Youth makes brave men of us all, and I decided I would build another firm from scratch to compete against his.” He laughed as he shook his head. “It was a disaster. I got addicted to Adderall so I could work eighteen-hour days, but the more I worked, the more my marriage, family, and life suffered. Until I had a heart attack at thirty-five and was divorced soon after, when I didn’t learn my lesson and my wife found my work computer under my hospital bed only days after having the heart attack.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Fienberg. But what has any of that got to do with my case?”
“The point I’m trying to make, my dear, is that Ari Goldman and his team of sharks are the best in the business, and you will find no one who will represent you, and if you do, they won’t believe they can win, so they’ll pay your case less attention than a one-eyed, no-leg hooker. Only the best work for Ari. Everyone else I wouldn’t trust to hold my suitcase.”
“So…what are you saying?”
“As your lawyer, it is my job to give you the best advice, and that advice is to plead guilty and pay what they ask.”
“And if I chose to ignore that advice?”
“How much are you willing to suffer to prove your innocence? What are you willing to do so you can keep on paying me until I win your case?”
The answer was on her lips before he finished his sentence. She told him, and his eyes widened.
“Are you sure? Once you enter, there is no way for you to come back. You’ll lose everything.”
“If I don’t do this, I’ll lose everything, anyway. This is the only way I can afford to pay you and make sure Jess has a comfortable life. I’ll leave you in charge of my estate until Jess turns of age, then hand over everything to her.”
“What if we lose the case?”
She got up from her chair and smiled. “All the more reason for me to go. It’ll be the only way I can afford to pay.”
They sorted out the details, and it took quicker than she expected. In truth, she wished it took months, so it prolonged her time with Jess, but their business was done in an afternoon.
Felicity placed the letter on the coffee table; inside was everything Jess would need to know concerning Mr. Fienberg.
Mr. Fienberg would act as Jess’s legal guardian, although stuff like that mattered little now. The government, or what remained of it, didn’t worry about parentless children. They had bigger concerns.
She placed another envelope on the table, this one A4 in size, with everything she wanted to say to her sister, plus video recordings she had taken over the course of the last month.
Felicity hoped she would understand but knew she wouldn’t. Just like she blamed her parents for being drafted, Jess would blame her for leaving as well.
Grabbing the rucksack in the corner, she took one last look at the only home she knew and left faster than the tears running down her face.
