Free The Green Line by E. C. Diskin

framed diplomas and moot court awards. She had always known she was living a charade, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. But now she wondered if she was actually sitting in that big-firm office for another reason. She would never have met Ali had she not been on that train. She would never have been on that train had she not worked at the firm. Maybe there was a reason she found herself surrounded by these two horrific and mysterious deaths.
    The phone rang; it was one of her clients. She closed her eyes and shook her head as if to turn on her professional voice. She picked up the phone and defaulted into work mode.
    LATER that afternoon, Abby turned to face the window and recharge. Her office on the forty-ninth floor provided a great southeast view. She soaked it up as she never before had. The Lake, Buckingham Fountain, the Planetarium, Soldier Field, the traffic along Lake Shore Drive. There was a lot going on outside her little box. She wondered where all the people on Lake Shore Drive were heading. She wanted to trade places with any of them.
    By six thirty, Abby clocked her eighth billable hour and called it a day. There were still ten unanswered e-mails, a few voice messages to return, and countless projects to be done, but no one would die if she put off the work until tomorrow. And if she stayed any longer, she’d just stare out the window. She grabbed her coat, turned off the computer, and hit the light switch.
    THE next morning, Abby got to the office by eight o’clock and was just beginning her routine when the phone rang. The caller ID read J. Hadden .
    “Shit,” Abby said as she picked up the phone.
    “Abigail Donovan,” Abby offered in her professional voice.
    “Abigail. Jerry. Can you come to my office?”
    “Sure. When?”
    “Right now.” He hung up the phone.
    Fuck.
    She grabbed a notepad and headed for the fiftieth floor.
    “HEY, Jerry. What’s up?” Abby was leaning in the doorway of his massive corner office, trying to appear casual and confident.
    He didn’t look up at her. “Come in. Shut the door, please.”
    Abby obliged. Her warm and light-hearted partner-advisor looked anything but. Unlike so many of the senior partners who often chose to tear down and rebuild associates as if they were in an army boot camp, Jerry was a great mentor. Every time she’d visit, he’d have some joke or story to share and his big belly would shake with laughter.
    There was nothing light in his expression today.
    He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat. Abigail, is everything okay?”
    Abby obliged. “Why do you ask?”
    Jerry removed his oversized frames, revealing the painful looking indentations they left behind. He rubbed his nose. He did not look pleased to be having this conversation.
    “Abby, you have long been one of my favorites. As I’ve told you during past reviews, you have done stellar work here for years and your future looks bright.”
    “And?”
    “And all of a sudden, I’m hearing things that give me serious concern.”
    “What things?” Abby sat straighter in her chair, on the defense and eager to show that she would take any criticism seriously.
    “Well, Peter mentioned that you bailed on an assignment recently and that sounded out of character.”
    “Jerry, honestly, it couldn’t be helped. I just didn’t bother with my explanation because I could tell that Peter was stressed and wasn’t in the mood for any excuses.”
    “Well, that may be, but I just hung up the phone with Steve Prince and he said he sent you two e-mails and left you a voice mail last week and never heard back from you.”
    “Jerry, I’m really sorry. I’m just sort of swamped right now and I’ve had some personal issues.” Her voice began to trail. She knew it was sounding like a poor excuse. “Calling Steve was at the top of my to-do list today.”
    “Abigail, we’re in the midst of a multi-million-dollar lawsuit. If the client calls you or e-mails you, I don’t care