Chapter 12: A Glimmer of Hope
There were a lot of things that Emma Swan thought about her attorney Ford Gold.
First, there was that name 'Ford'. She shook her head at the name. It reminded her of her favorite book The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. She frowned, not remembering when she read the book, but regardless it was her favorite.
She didn't know what to expect from Ford. After all, her experiences with lawyers pretty much till now had been horrible—except for airings of The Practice. She had a hard time believing that he could get her out of here, after all, she might've not been a lawyer but she had spent a lot of time in the prison library, especially during her last trimester.
She put her hand on her now empty stomach and sighed heavily.
It was hard not thinking about the baby, but she knew that's what she was going to have to do. Like she told Ford, she had nothing. Soon after they took the stitches out the only thing she'd have left of the child was the scar and the leftover baby weight.
Besides, she could focus on her case. Maybe she could get out of here, Ford seemed to think so.
However, Debra seemed to laugh when she hauled her back to her cell. "So, you got yourself a fancy lawyer now."
Emma blinked at her. "I got a new lawyer, I guess."
"You can't afford a guy like that." Debra said.
"He said he was doing it pro bono."
Debra laughed. "Oh, one of those. Honey, that guy is probably not going to come back. You should just focus on healing and get ready to moved to the general population."
"What?" Emma said.
"Fancy suits like that," Debra said. "I see them come and go. They do a couple of visits with the inmates to make themselves feel good; then they find an excuse to leave. Just wait and see, this Ford Gold he'll find nothing to help you."
Emma frowned and Debra shook her head. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up, kid. I know how hard it is, especially for a lifer as young as you."
Lifer.
She heard that term a lot since being here, even though she hadn't really interacted with anyone—save for the library. And those were considered to be the "trusted" prisoners. Her stomach twisted and turned with the mere thought of interacting with the general population. She knew that as a lifer, she'd be treated a little different than other ones. She'd be expected to be something she was not.
It would be the beginning of her life, a life she didn't want.
"Maybe he can help," Emma said. "He seemed to think he did."
"You plead guilty," Debra said. "You know you have very little to stand on."
She was moved to general the next day.
The experience was a little surreal for so long she had been alone, but as soon as her stitches were removed and she was given the once over by the prison doctor, she was deemed clear to be moved.
Don't be nervous, she kept telling herself. She knew that was the last thing she needed to be. She saw how the nervous and weak were always the first to be picked on in foster homes and she remembered hearing those who had been in and out of group homes and prisons always talked about how the group homes were child's play.
And they weren't even in a maximum-security facility like this.
She needed to adapt. She couldn't think of Ford Gold and the promises that he made to her, Debra was probably right he wasn't going to do anything here she was stuck for life.
They ended up putting her in a cell with a woman name Lena.
She was years older than Emma, or maybe she wasn't. In prison it seemed like you aged a lot fast and then were perpetually that age until you got really old and died. You didn't see a lot of geriatrics in jail though, people just didn't have the will to live that long when you were fed mush and either spent your days staring at the ceiling in your cell, going to the prison library, or doing mass amounts laundry/making license plates.
Lena just stared at her when Emma entered her cell. Emma could tell there innately off with her, then it occurred to Emma that most people might say the same thing about her. After all, Emma had been convicted of killing a man.
Debra smirked, "You two ladies should get alone, both of you are lifers. Enjoy. And Lena, make sure that Emma feels welcomed."
Lena only grunted paying more attention to twirling a strand of her red hair than to Emma.
As soon as Debra left Lena went over to Emma and slammed her into the wall.
"What—" Emma started to say but was quickly manhandled enough to know to shut up.
"You need to learn your place," Lena hissed, Emma noticed that she had accent. She wanted to say British, but she wasn't sure there was something that wasn't so British about it. "This cell is mine."
"I was just—"
"No," Lena said. "You might be a lifer, but you haven't earned your place in jail yet. You haven't proved yourself to be wicked enough."
And then she threw Emma on the floor and laughed again.
Emma tried to get up but Lena put her foot on her back preventing her from moving. "Don't even try to scream, the guards know what's going on. You heard Debra, she told me to make sure you felt welcomed."
"I wasn't going to scream." Emma said.
Lena smiled. "That's what they all say."
"I'm requesting a hearing," Ford said buried under papers when he came to visit her again—about a week later.
Seriously, he hadn't looked up at her once.
"What?" Emma said. "It's only been a week since I hired you."
It had actually been one week, three days, twenty hours, seven minutes, and thirty-six seconds. She counted time a lot—especially since Lena had made sure her life was a living hell.
The daily beatings had only gotten worse and Debra and the rest of the staff simply ignored them. Other than the one shiner that Lena had given haphazardly her the one time Emma had managed to fight back, she had been discreet of her injuries making sure no one saw them. It was all part of Emma's "initiation". Commencing with a tattoo that had forcibly been branded on Emma's arm that apparently meant that she belonged to Lena—whatever that meant.
"I work fast, love." He said before adding, "What's that on your face."
"Oh, this," She said she winced. "It's just a black eye. What did you find out?"
"Black eye?"
"I've been moved to general," Emma said rolling her eyes. "My new cellmate doesn't like me to much. It's not that big of deal."
Definite lie. She had a feeling Lena wanted to kill her after she got done tormenting her. When she wasn't beating the literal shit out of her, Lena kept insulting her, telling her all the things she could do to her.
"Oh, did she, dearie. Well, in that case the hearing's today."
"You can't—"
He waived his hand, "But I can. I'll make the necessary phone calls. If Purvis can't come, it won't matter. I have enough evidence and his deposition, it should count for something, and if it doesn't—well, I'll make it count for something."
She raised an eyebrow. "You actually talked to Purvis."
"When I take over a case, I like to talk to previous counsel," Ford said.
"But he actually made room in his schedule to talk to you?"
Gold rolled her brown eyes. Emma noticed they were flecked with gold and green. The green particularly stuck out to her for some odd reason. "People always make time to talk to me, Emma. I am, Ford Gold after all. And let's just say that an apathetic public defender who wants to go into the private sector would easily accept an invitation to The Gold Law Firm."
"The Gold Law Firm," She said. "Should I know that name?"
"Not unless your in the legal profession," He said. "But let's just say that Purvis has seen the light."
"I don't—"
He smiled. "You don't need to understand, love. I have what I need to get you a new trial, and hopefully, get you out of here today."
Emma rolled her eyes. "I doubt you can do that. It takes forever to get a hearing."
"Not when there are emergency circumstances involved."
"Because a gross injustice has been done and I have a shiner. Mr. Gold—really?"
"Your such a cynical thing for only being eighteen-years of age, love. And we all know it's not just a shiner. You keep rubbing your arm; I'm assuming there's some sort of injury. Isn't there?"
She frowned. "It's—it's—"
"Not that bad, right? What did she do?"
"Do I really have to talk about it?"
"Well, it would help your case."
"No one likes a snitch, Mr. Gold." She said looking at Debra who was eying her from the other side of the visiting area as if daring her to mention what happened in her cell.
"True," Ford said. "But a courtroom is a place for snitches. Love, please."
Emma sighed heavily as she looked at the guard.
"Oh," Ford said. "I see. Ms. McMullins won't be bothering you. Trust me."
"I—"
What the heck, she knew whatever happened Lena wouldn't be finished with her one way or the other so she rolled up her sleeve where the mark that Lana had put on her arm last night was searing red. You couldn't really even tell what it was, Emma thought, with the way the skin was inflamed. Not that she had really known what it was when Lena branded her the other night, she had been screaming in pain.
Mr. Gold looked appalled, "She did that to you?"
"It's not that bad."
"Not that bad, it looks infected. I'm going to call the clerk now. You are not going back in that cell ever."
"I really don't think that's going to happen. I've been convicted, and I really don't know how you're going to change that."
He sighed heavily, "Yeah, I get it. You've been burnt by the justice system, or should I say Purvis Bernard, but I'm about to give you your faith back in everything that is America. Save for apple pie."
She gave him a weird look.
"Well, I can't stand the stuff, love. Even when it's served a la mode. Apples disgust me."
"Are you allergic to them?" Emma asked, "I am."
"Uh, no. Just strawberries. But I can't stand apples. There was a horrid woman I once knew who had this apparent award winning apple tart, I wouldn't go near the stuff. You should be glad you can't eat them."
She nodded. "So, what's the plan? Bernard acted like it was pretty much an open shut case."
Gold smirked, "Let's just say that my legal assistant inquired some enlightening evidence, and with the abuse you've been getting by your esteemed cell mate I might just be able to get you out of here today."
One thing about it, this hearing was a lot different than the last time she had been in a courtroom.
Not that she was caught completely off guard again. She hadn't been expecting of all things to be released in the custody of her attorney, but that was apparently what happened.
She honestly didn't expect that, she had been expected to be thrown back in there into her cell where she would undoubtedly get tormented in some other sadistic way of Lena's.
But nope, here she was in the back of a town car with Ford Gold in clothes that weren't orange.
Of course, there she wasn't completely free while she might've no longer been wearing chains, but she still had an ankle monitor. But somehow, Ford had managed to get her out the hellish plea bargain she made and he said it would only be a matter of days before he had the charges dropped for her.
And, oddly, enough, she sort of believed him. Maybe because it was the fact that she watched him get Purvis to admit to providing a lousy defense, that he hadn't done his legal obligation to explain how a plea would work for Emma, and that he hadn't provided an adequate defense which was enough to get the plea overturned.
And then he got her out of jail, which she was still flummoxed over. Sure, she was in his custody, but it was better than a jail cell.
"So, where are we going?" She asked after she finally found her voice again.
He muttered some fancy hotel.
"Really," Emma asked. "A hotel?"
"I don't stay in one place for too long," Gold said.
"Yet, everyone kisses your ass here." Emma said.
Gold shrugged. "They like a mystery."
"I shouldn't be out of jail," Emma said. "This isn't how these things work."
"Don't knock it, "Gold said. "I am a miracle worker."
"Yes, you are." She said. "But it seems a little unreal, like fairytale."
He laughed. "Are you serious?"
"What?"
"This is hardly a fairytale, love. I am just getting you what you deserved."
Emma just shook her head, not sure if she deserved any of this.
The hotel suite was huge. Emma guessed she should've expected it with Ford's expensive suits, but it still overwhelmed her almost as much as the smell.
It smelt clean.
Not like prison.
She felt like an odd woman out.
Gold looked at her, "It's going to be okay, love. My suite is fairly large you can have your whole wing practically. I'm not going to be here much, anyway. You know cases and that stuff. So, I won't be a bother."
She shook her head.
"What?" He asked.
"You're not bothering me. Uh, I just wanted to say thank you." She said.
"Your very much welcome, Ms. Swan." He said. "I know you must be dying for a shower and a fresh change of clothes."
She nodded. She felt silly in the suit that Purvis had bought her all those months ago when she took the plea. It was the only suitable clothing she had left. She didn't even ask what happened to the items she had in County. Probably destroyed, not that it mattered they had been from a donation grab bag anyway.
She was ready to pull off the ill-fitting blue garment as soon as she could. Purvis had bought it for her when she was pregnant, it didn't fit then and it didn't fit now. Probably would never fit, Emma thought as she took in her reflection in the mirror. God, she didn't recognize herself at all.
She hadn't really bothered to look at herself while in prison, so the haunted expression that she saw when she looked at herself seemed new to her. The shiner didn't help either. Her hair was longer than she expected, and she was thinner than she realized.
She shook her head as she took off the suit and noticed her arm; it looked worse than it did earlier. She couldn't see a speck of the green ink that Lena had used to doddle God knows what on her arm. It was all red, puffy, and it hurt. Gold had mentioned something about a doctor coming by later, she could tell she was going to need one.
It was the first time she could really shower. Sure, she was allowed to shower in prison, but she never felt clean and the water was either cold or scathing hot. Nothing in the middle.
She took her time scrubbing every square inch of herself, trying to remove those seven months of hell. She knew it wouldn't do any good though; her eyes focusing on the belly for a moment. The post pregnancy pooch was almost all gone now, as for the scar it wasn't as prominent as a few weeks ago, but it was still there. It probably always would be there.
She told herself to not think of Jaime. It wouldn't do any good. Besides, all of this—her freedom—might be temporary. She was still being charged with murder. She could still end up back in that cell with Lena.
She could only hope that Gold was as good as he said he was.
When she got out of the shower she wrapped herself in one of the hotel's luxurious robes, as someone knocked on the door.
For such a big hotel room, she had been sure the place had multiple bathrooms. But imagine to her surprise when she opened her door and a young woman with frizzy brown hair greeted her rather than Ford.
"Emma?" The girl asked.
She nodded.
"I'm Hermione, Mr. Gold's assistant." She said, "I, uh, got you some things to wear. Ford said you didn't have anything."
"That's nice of you," Emma said. "Where is Mr. Gold?"
"At the office," Hermione said. "He said he had some work to do on your case, he'll be back soon. Are you okay?"
No.
She wasn't okay. She knew she'd never technically be okay.
Emma didn't say this though. Instead she said, "I'm a little tired."
"Oh," Hermione said. "Did Ford show your room?"
Emma nodded. "Yeah, I doubt I can get any sleep though. I haven't in awhile."
The girl gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. I know that Ford made you an appointment to see a doctor later today, so maybe they can give you some sleeping pills."
"Oh, right." Emma said, "My arm does hurt a bit."
Hermione shook her head. "Your eye looks bad too."
Emma shrugged, "It's not the first time I've had a shiner."
Hermione shook her head. "That's so wrong. I understand why Ford wants to sue civilly."
"Civilly?"
"Yes," Hermione said. "Ford wants to sue the state for your imprisonment. You didn't deserve what happened to you Emma."
"But that's the thing," Emma said not knowing why she was telling this to a complete stranger, "What if I did?"
"You think you killed Ralph Miller?" The girl asked.
"I have no idea," Emma said. "I—my memories from the time I left the Millers till I woke up in County are blurry at best. I only have small recollections of when I was in London. It's not a comforting thing, you know?"
"I get it," Hermione said. "But I don't think Ford would've taken your case if he thought you were guilty."
"Those suits don't come cheap," Emma said. "I'm sure he's defended his share of guilty people."
Hermione shook her head. "No, not Ford. He takes cases that he believes in."
"Well, I'm not sure if he should believe in me." Emma stated. "Because I did hate Ralph."
"But do you think you could've killed him?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know," Emma said.
Because she didn't know, after finding out she was pregnant the only thing she wanted to do was kill Ralph Miller for violating her. But she really didn't know if she could go through it. She never really thought of herself as a violent person, but the pain that she felt these past few months made her wonder.
The rest of the day seemed to go by in a blur. There was the doctor's appointment. Her arm was infected. Big surprise there. She was given a shot of antibiotics and even about a week's worth of pills. He also mentioned some test she would need to take later on, to make sure that the needle Lena had used hadn't been dirty—it made her shutter a bit. Reminding her that she still needed her to get tested after—after what Ralph did to her. They hadn't offered it to her in jail. Dr. Lee mentioned she'd have to wait away and after that—well, the prison had been more concerned about getting her stitches removed and moved into General than anything else.
She barely heard Dr. Nelson after that. He said something about removing the tattoo with lasers or something after it went down and then began talking about sleeping pills—which he prescribed.
He quickly left after that, and after Emma mentioned she hadn't been sleeping. She didn't bring up the Ralph Miller thing, not then. She was still trying to get over the fact that in a way she had been violated yet again.
She really didn't pay much to anything. Hermione would occasionally come into the room and try to talk to her, but Emma just didn't know what to do or say.
So many months had been spent in that little cell. For so many months her attention was spent on the baby that had been growing in her stomach. She would just inevitably stare at her belly as if it would change each day, and sometimes it very well did. She would concentrate on the baby when it kicked, trying to ignore its origin. Then as her due date approached, she would start thinking about giving birth.
After Jaime had been born, she had spent so many days dreading moving to General. And then in General, she was just trying to survive and trying not to have any hope that this Ford Gold guy was real.
But apparently he was, real enough to give her freedom at least temporary.
There was a knock on her door, "Are you awake, love?"
She had been awake. She told Hermione she was going to take some of those pills that the doctor Gold had hired had given her, but she hadn't. She just didn't see the point.
"You can come in," She said.
Gold opened the door and stood awkwardly at the doorframe, "Are you, um, hungry?"
She shrugged. "Not really."
She hadn't had an appetite in a long time. During her pregnancy she had to force herself to eat for the baby. It wasn't like the jail had any cheeseburgers and the whole situation made her adverse to food.
He sighed heavily walking into her room. "You might feel better if you had some food."
"Really," Emma said. "I'm fine. No food. Really."
He nodded. "Hermione said that you haven't been able to sleep that Dr. Nelson prescribed you some pills."
Emma nodded. "Yeah. I thought about taking some of them this afternoon, but I didn't. I just—all of this. He said I'd have to take some tests. That Lena—God, it's not going to be okay, is it?"
"You'll be fine."
"You don't know that," She said. "That needle it already gave me an infection, God knows what else it gave me."
He looked at her, "This isn't about the needle is it? I mean, I understand why your upset about that. I'm upset about it too, but it's something else, isn't it?"
He was right. It was about Ralph Miller. She couldn't help but think of what he had done all afternoon and she couldn't help but think that it was likely she killed him. After all, she wanted to break Lena's neck right now and all she had done to her was beat her up and gave her a botched tattoo.
"It's okay." He said as he sat down on one of the plush chairs in her bedroom.
Emma shook her head. "No, it isn't. I need to know if I killed that man."
"You didn't." Gold said. "Trust me, I wouldn't have taken the case if you did."
"You don't know that," Emma said. "I hated Ralph. He—"
She trailed off not wanting to tell Gold what had happened to her. She supposed at some part, she would need to. But every time she confided with some one, it turned out not to do her any good. Besides, the only one who halfway believed her was that OBGYN she saw when her pregnancy was confirmed.
Besides, what was the point? Purvis was right; no one would believe that she was raped. If anything, it would be more or less a motivation for killing Ralph.
She hadn't even brought Jaime up to Gold because at this point Emma didn't even know if she wanted to admit that she had a son. Not that he was hers anymore anyway. Maybe it was better to act like none of it had happened. All she had left of him was a little excess weight and scar. In a few months or maybe year or so, it would be very easy to act like all of this hadn't happened.
But it had.
Which made Emma inwardly shudder.
"I've been doing some investigating of my own, love." He said, "Do you realize that Diana Miller didn't have an alibi for that night either?"
"Diana?" Emma said, "She wouldn't kill Ralph, she was married to him. She loved him."
Ford gave her a dubious look.
"What?" Emma said.
"You lived with the Millers," He said, "Do I really need to explain how dysfunctional they were?"
"Yeah, I know. But Diana always took her frustration out on me, not Ralph. I actually felt sort of bad for her. Until, of course, she called me accused me of having an affair with her husband, called me a harlot, and ruined my best shirt. I mean, who does that?"
Ford smiled. "I've known a few people who use that term. But you just gave Diana a motive for framing you right there. Add the fact that she was having an illicit relationship with Purvis Bernard and—"
"Wait, Diana and Purvis?"
"Yes, Diana and Purvis. How else do you think I got him to testify? I might be a miracle worker, love, but you have to have leverage to be able to perform a miracle."
"Purvis and Diana? How? And how did he get to be my lawyer, this couldn't be just a coincidence?"
"It's not," He said. "I talked to Purvis. He admitted that he and Diana had been seeing each other on and off for about a year and that he took your case in part to make sure that someone, other than Diana, got charged with Ralph's murder."
"But she got so mad at Ralph. She went into such jealous rages. I don't understand why she would do that if she and Purvis were seeing each other."
"People can be fickle," Ford said. "She might've not wanted to fuck Ralph, but that didn't mean she didn't think Ralph should fuck someone other than her."
"It still doesn't prove that she did anything," Emma said. "It's not like she confessed to Purvis."
"Come on, love, she and Purvis basically obstructed justice getting you thrown into jail. It's not hard to connect the dots."
It wasn't, but at the same time Diana hadn't outwardly admitted to killing Ralph and there was no evidence against her.
"It's circumstantial at best." Emma said.
"It might've been, but that was before I Purvis got her to confess and I got the charges completely dropped against you."
"You're kidding me," Emma said.
"I don't joke around, not when it comes my work." Ford said.
"But why would he get her to confess to Purvis. I don't—"
"It's done," He said. "We could watch her being hauled off to jail on the local news. I'm sure I could get Hermione to bring us some popcorn."
Emma shook her head. "I don't—but the ankle monitor? They haven't taken it off. That means the charges haven't been dropped."
"They're sending someone this evening," He shrugged. "If they don't, it's something else we can add to our civil lawsuit."
"Civil lawsuit? Really, I know Hermione mentioned it but—"
Gold nodded. "Yes, I told you I was going to get you justice Emma. And that includes the money that you were owed. Now, I'm thinking after the monitor gets removed we get dinner. We can either order in or go out and celebrate."
"In please," Emma said not ready to go out, not yet. Not that she'd have a choice, once the monitor was removed she was sure Ford would kick her to the curb. After all, he wouldn't have any more responsibility towards her, and she was sure he'd move on to righting some other injustice.
"Hmm, I think pizza will do nicely then. The kind with the thin crust, I despise deep dish."
"So do I," Emma said.
Ford nodded smiling sadly.
The monitor was removed an hour later. It was the first time she had no chains or anything on her for a long time. Emma took a deep breath as she looked inside the fancy room.
"You don't look as happy as a free woman should look." Gold said sliding into the room this time with a pizza box in his hand.
Emma shrugged. "I'm numb. Besides, it's not like I have anything here any way. Statistics show that I'll probably end up in jail sooner than later."
"Oh, don't be such a pessimist." Gold said before he added, "You're welcome to stay here as long as you want. This place is large enough."
"That's nice and all," Emma said, "But you hardly know me."
"I'm your lawyer," Ford said.
"And you got the charges dropped, there's not much else for me that you can do." Emma sighed heavily. "I am at some point going to have to get my life together, and I just don't know how I'm going to do that."
"Which is why we're having the civil lawsuit, love. You did hear me earlier, didn't you?"
Honestly, she heard him in passing, but it wasn't like she had been paying much attention. "Seriously, you're really suing them?"
"Well, I hope they settle. But you deserve to be compensated for everything that happened."
"I still can't believe that Diana did all of this. Do you think I can talk to her?"
"Do you really want to?" Gold asked.
"Can I think about it?" She asked, not sure what if anything she could say to Diana.
Or for that matter, what good it would do. What was done; was done. She looked at Gold, "Thank you. You really didn't have to do this."
"It was my pleasure," He said. "Love, things will get better."
She shook her head. "I don't know. I have nothing, Mr. Gold."
"Ford, please." He said, "And don't worry, I'm going to make sure you don't leave with nothing."
But how could you make such a promise, Emma wondered. She shook her head, "I hate this. I don't want anyone's pity."
Gold looked at her.
"I've always told myself that I'm a survivor." Emma said not knowing why she was telling this to Gold of all people.
"You are." He said, "Most people wouldn't have been able to deal with what you have dealt with, Ms. Swan?"
Emma laughed, "I'm hardly dealing with it. I—I was locked up for a good chunk of a year. For the rest of the year I have little to no memory of what happened, other than that I somehow convinced myself I could've killed my foster father. I should've. Both him and Diana—they destroyed me. They destroyed everything."
Her body was shaking at this point, all of this. She just wanted to cry, to do something. All of this was too much.
"It's going to be okay. I'm going to make sure of it, love. You'll be able to do whatever you want after all of this."
She knew he was at least being earnest about the money. She had no doubt about that. He had gotten her out of jail, and it took him less than two weeks. He could very easily get her cash, probably enough cash to live the rest of her life. But Emma hated being a charity case and told him as much.
He shook his head. "Love, you are hardly a charity case."
"But I have nothing to offer you." She said.
"I'll get my cut from the civil suit, believe me." He said, "Besides, sometimes I like being an insipid do-gooder. It makes me feel slightly better about myself. Yes, even bloodsuckers need to feel better about themselves."
"You're hardly a bloodsucker, Gold."
He smiled sadly. "That's because you don't really know me, love. And please again, call me Ford."
Maybe not, but as of right now Ford Gold was her savior.