CHAPTER 14: CHAPTER 14: STILL EARLY

Justin Holden had no intention of going back once he came out. He glanced at his watch.

"Is there anything else?"

He asked the female lawyer blocking his way.

The female lawyer was captivated by his face. When he asked her, she snapped back to reality and quickly spoke.

"Oh, it’s like this. I’m currently doing legal aid, and I came across a case. I’m not sure whether to take it on..."

"Speak."

Justin Holden just wanted her to finish quickly. He needed to go back and take his medication.

"It’s about a single mother who just got out of prison. She wants to regain custody of her child, but her daughter has a heart condition, and the surgery is very expensive. The adoptive family..."

The female lawyer’s voice stopped abruptly. She sensed that Lawyer Holden’s expression was a bit off and didn’t dare to continue.

"Jean Ellison?"

Justin Holden’s tone was flat, but under the thin lenses of his glasses, there was a rare dark turmoil in his eyes.

"Yes, the female prisoner is named Jean Ellison."

The female lawyer nodded, wanting to ask more but was cut off by Justin Holden’s words.

"Watch your language."

"Yes... it’s the client."

Under his impassive gaze, the female lawyer corrected herself.

She was curious. If Lawyer Holden knew this woman, why did she need legal aid? Arranging a lawyer to handle the case could be done with just a word from Lawyer Holden.

"Do you know her?"

"Don’t take on her case, it’s not your concern anymore. Go back."

Justin Holden answered off-topic, somewhat absent-minded.

"Okay."

The female lawyer kept looking back as she watched him drive away from the restaurant.

At the same time, Jean Ellison said she needed to buy some daily necessities and had Isabel Dalton drop her off at a supermarket near her home.

When she came out of the supermarket again, carrying a plastic bag with some toilet paper and laundry detergent inside.

From a distance, she saw a tall man standing under the building.

She lowered her head, not paying much attention.

"Reporter Ellison."

She stopped, tightening her grip on the plastic bag. The voice belonged to Justin Holden.

Looking to the side, she was somewhat surprised.

Wasn’t he just on a date with Wendy Wallace? What was he doing here?

"Lawyer Holden, what a coincidence."

Jean Ellison figured he probably didn’t live nearby. This area was full of small apartments, suitable for single occupancy, and the rent was cheap.

"Not a coincidence, I’m waiting for you."

Justin Holden wore a deep black suit, with a moon-white shirt underneath, exuding quality. His trousers hung just right, accentuating his tall, slender build.

He walked toward her in a steady, unhurried pace, his face unreadable.

Like... in the past.

Jean Ellison didn’t understand why he was here, and instinctively took two steps back, clutching the bag tightly.

"Let’s talk as we walk."

Justin Holden didn’t seem to recognize her yet, speaking in a flat tone, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay."

They walked side by side. Jean Ellison deliberately kept a distance from him, enough space between them to stand another person.

Justin Holden had to lower his head to see her, to notice her long eyelashes, delicate features, her high forehead and bridge of her nose, and her charmingly tilted nose.

He remembered Claire Caldwell’s features were also delicate, though her nose wasn’t as high, but it wasn’t low either.

"Lawyer Holden, what do you need?"

Jean Ellison waited a long while but he didn’t speak. They were almost at her door, and the atmosphere felt strange.

Justin Holden withdrew his gaze, his tone deep.

"Does placing your hope in the Legal Aid Center mean you don’t trust my abilities?"

Jean Ellison was stunned. She stopped and looked up at him.

How did he know about this?

Oh right, he’s famous in the legal field, surely with many connections.

If she sought a lawyer for her case, it couldn’t be hidden from him.

"No."

She denied it bluntly.

She certainly didn’t doubt his abilities; in fact, she knew too well how capable he was.

If he wanted, there could be countless outcomes for the cases he handled.

"If not, then why?"

Justin Holden looked down at her, with a cold expression, much like the time he asked her.

Why keep following him?

The teaching block, the cafeteria, the library, he could find her wherever he went.

This time, however, Jean Ellison’s face did not blush. She dared to look him directly in the eye.

"No reason. I just want a different lawyer. Am I not allowed even this right?"

"You’re certainly allowed."

"But if it’s a case I haven’t taken, do you think anyone in all of Kingswell City would take it?"

"Even if they took your money, your daughter won’t come back."

When he mentioned Jesse, Jean Ellison’s expression shifted. Her fingers curled, and the plastic bag handles dug painfully into her hands.

"I..."

"The Jennings family has hired a team of lawyers from the United States, among them," Jean Ellison pursed her lips, getting interrupted mid-sentence.

"My mentor, Professor Zachary Thorne." Justin Holden’s face showed no change in expression, if anything, the eyes beneath his glasses appeared darker.

It was not out of respect, but a sense of guilt.

To whom did he owe guilt?

Certainly not his teacher.

"If you’re worried that I’d lose the case on purpose just to please my teacher, that’s unnecessary."

"I have basic professional ethics. Even when facing my teacher, I won’t hold back in court."

His words were steady, each syllable dropping on Jean Ellison from above.

Jean Ellison felt a sourness at the tip of her nose. He was right; he had basic professional ethics, never holding back on anyone.

He could list her crimes before the judge with a straight face, watch her get sentenced, and then turn his back and leave decisively.

He never visited Crestwell Women’s Penitentiary during the five years.

Every time someone came, she was the first to look outside the door.

Even Isabel Dalton noticed she was waiting for someone, but that someone would never come.

"I understand. I’ll consider it."

Jean Ellison’s demeanor gave Justin Holden the illusion that he was the one begging.

As if he were the one desperately needing to fight the case.

"How long to consider?"

Jean Ellison thought for a moment. "Tomorrow, I’ll leave you a message tomorrow."

"I won’t harm you, Reporter Ellison."

Justin Holden’s words made her shiver. She looked at him fearfully, then quickly looked away.

Harm her...

"What’s wrong?"

Justin Holden watched her thin shoulders seem to tremble, biting her lip, her eyes red and misty.

"Nothing, I should go home."

"It’s still early."

"It’s not early, it’s already..."

The dialogue felt familiar. Back then, he would often have her out late at his firm. He’d call her in the middle of the night.

She wanted to return to the dorm. He’d say it was still early.

In the end, the dorms locked up. She feared waking up the dorm matron, getting disciplinary marks, so she had Justin Holden take her to the firm.

At first, she’d sleep on the sofa, then...

Her first time was on his office desk.

In the depths of winter, the heat was turned up high, the marble desk was hard against her, leaving her nowhere to retreat.

When Jean Ellison looked up, her petite nose nearly touched his prominent one. His head dipped low, eyes closed, lashes long and ebony.

He looked like he could fall asleep.

"Lawyer Holden."

Justin Holden heard her voice softly by his ear, and slowly opened his eyes, showing a hint of weariness.

"Sorry."

He should head back to rest, a rare drowsiness had come over him.

Turning to leave, he only got a few steps from Jean Ellison when he snapped fully awake, all sleepiness gone.

He raised his wrist, the back of his hand pale, platinum watch glowing under the dim streetlight.

He had passed the time to take his medication.

What was that sleepiness just now? He could hardly sleep in bed usually, yet he nearly dozed off standing here.

Jean Ellison carried her belongings up the stairs. She lived on the sixth floor, and the apartment building had no elevator.

Today she wore flat shoes, making slight abrasive sounds against the stairs.

The handles dug into her palm painfully. She paused on the fourth floor, set the bag down, and prepared to switch hands.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow on the third floor below.

Just as she leaned to look down, it went completely dark, the shadow brushed past her, with footsteps heading downstairs, yet she couldn’t see anyone.

She thought of the news article she wrote today.

Recently, several tailing incidents have occurred in Kingswell City, with several women living alone being assaulted by intruders in their homes...