Chapter Sixteen

Ursin Miller

It was the beginning of the fifth week of summer session lecture, and Anya wasn't there again. She'd missed three consecutive days of lecture and two quizzes, of which I was forced to give her a no-show fail grade.

One thing remained from the last time I'd seen her. I fell for her. And not the information she shared, and the complete initial denial and subsequent cruel treatment on my part changed anything for me. Once the dust settled and the reality of her absence hit me, I had to take a beat, a pause to reevaluate my life.

I had poured over every document of Montelongo's case file in the days I was alone without Anya. I read every statement, listened to every recorded conversation, and watched every interview. There was so much in those files, unapparent, not glaring, that could have told more of the story about Gomez Montelongo and his associates. We were too focused on getting him, we didn't care what charge would take him down. We'd have been happy if tax evasion did him in—that was enough. But it wasn't, was it? It wasn't just getting a guy, it was about processing the evidence, all of it at our disposal. Who else associated with Gomez's group walked free because of negligence? Damn. I doubted I should even be teaching criminal justice to college students anymore.

I waited for the class to finish their quizzes as I ruminated on everything that came to pass the last week. When the bell rang signaling the end of the lecture, the students exited the auditorium, and I was relieved.

The last person trailing behind the other was Reggie. He strolled down the steps toward the podium where I stood gathering quizzes from students. He held out his quiz, an air of arrogance around him.

Annoying little shit.

"Thank you, Reggie. I hope you did better on this quiz than the last one." I took his paper.

He paused, staring at me with an unstated accusation in his eyes. "I saw Anya over the weekend. I don't know why she's not coming to class."

My jaw clenched. "Is that so?"

Reggie nodded once. "Yeah. Should I get some assignments for her? I'd hate for her to miss more quizzes."

Heat rose up from my feet. There were many choice words I wanted to say to Reggie, but they would only confirm whatever asinine theory was in his head. But he was probably right. Anya and I had a magnetic connection to any who saw it. And Reggie, a boy who clearly thought would be my competitor, noticed.

"I'd hate for you to fail this course because you were worried about someone else's grade." My gaze latched onto his, pinned him.

Reggie backed off. Good. He had no idea I could ruin him if I really was bothered to do it.

"Good day, Reggie." I shuffled the quizzes and turned my back.

Soon I was alone again, and new students for the next lecture were pouring in. I took my messenger bag and ascended the concrete steps to exit the room and make my way to the third floor to my office. I'd been better at keeping my office hours the last week.

When I arrived at my door, I paused, stopping in my tracks. A woman stood straighter the moment our gazes met, and I swore I had deja vu.

Inez Montelongo. Anya's mother. She was there, in the flesh, years later. But she looked exactly the same. I was conflicted. She was literally the last person I ever wanted to see, and what the fuck was she doing here?

"Mr. Miller," she said. "I hope I can speak with you for a moment."

I narrowed my gaze at the small box she held.

"May I come inside your office?"

What were my choices? Call the police. Turn her away. And what about Anya? Did Inez know about us? Was she there to take her last revenge against me?

I stepped toward the door and unlocked it as I always did. I turned to face her. "Follow me."

Inside, she sat in the same chair Anya had, and I settled in my chair behind the desk. She held the box on her narrow lap.

"It's been a long time, Mr. Miller." She smiled, small, but there.

"Eight years." I crossed my arms. "It's been eight years, Inez."

"I go by Doria now. Not Inez."

I smirked, not correcting myself. She would always be Inez, Gomez Montelongo's wife to me.

She dropped her dark eyes. The same as Anya's. "Well, I should get to it. You know I'm not here for a social call. Well, not really."

The last part of her comment piqued my interest. So, was this about Anya? Was she okay?

"My daughter came to me distressed recently. And I understand it's about you, Mr. Miller."

My eyebrow lifted, but I didn't say a word.

She smirked. "I always knew you'd be DA one day. Just a side note." She opened the box and stared down at the contents. "Anya, my daughter, shared something with you that no doubt changed your life."

My jaw clenched. How the hell could she say this to me? And so casually? There was nothing casual about questioning my father's character after believing for decades he was an upstanding man.

"It changed my daughter's life, whatever happened between you two, of which she hasn't admitted anything. But…" She looked up at me. "I'm her mother, and I know."

"What's in the box, Inez?"

She looked down, chuckling. "Right … in this box is proof that what Anya told you is true. It's information I kept back from the trial. Your father had been dead for ten years, and I just couldn't hurt you or your mother with information that would turn your world upside-down. Blame me for that, not Anya."

She placed the box on my desk and pushed it over. My heart pounded; my mind reeled. This was the proof Anya spoke of. I couldn't let myself look inside yet. I wasn't ready to solidify this new image of who my father was.

My gaze met hers, and she stood. "All of it is original. There are no copies of anything. You have it all now."

She pressed her lips together and turned toward the door. But before she left, she looked back at me again.

"I accept any fate you have, Mr. Miller. I firmly believe I was right to hold this back, and after you look through everything, if you disagree, my information is inside there as well. Or, you can reach me through Anya. You know where she is, right?"

I sat back, not saying a word. What for? She could read me. Few people could.

"And no, she has no idea I came here." Then she was gone.

I sat there for a time, looking at the box. I stared at it as if it could speak to me and tell me the things I didn't want to know but had to know. And being in that position highlighted that I had done so much on my own. But I didn't want to look through the new evidence by myself.

I stood, urgency moving my feet. My pride was at an all-time low, and my desperation was at an all-time high.

I knew where I needed to go. It's where I was always going.