He tells the lady at the desk that we’ll be back and we head out into the night. There’s nothing surrounding the nondescript federal government building housing the offices of the FBI. No other office buildings or strip mall. Across the street is the 805 Freeway. The dull, incessant drone of traffic blends with the sound of crickets and the odd chirping bird. We stroll around the complex in silence. This isn’t helping me calm down, but it gives me something to do other than drink coffee and stare at the door that won’t open.
On our third lap Mr. Nash starts to tell the story of when he first met Cora. I’ve heard Cora’s account and some of Leo’s, but Mr. Nash’s is by far the most interesting. I feel like I’m getting the true version of events. He talks about how fierce Cora was in trying to talk him into taking on my case. How determined she was that he help her.
“It wasn’t like she gave me a choice,” he says and laughs. “She wasn’t going to leave until I gave in. There she was with her box of files and determination, delivering the most impassioned speech I’ve ever heard. And then Leo stepped up and volunteered himself to help her. Until then, that kid practically got hives any time someone even mentioned investigative work. She not only moved me with her speech, she moved my stubborn mountain of a son. I knew right then that she would change his life and mine.
“My point is, sometimes people come into your life unexpectedly, unwantedly, and jerk the rug out from under you. Your world’s changed forever. Helping Maurice Battle win his freedom after thirty-nine years was incredible. Helping you win your freedom back…life-altering. Because of Cora, I don’t see the world the way I saw it before she walked into my office, demanding we help her. After spending a few hours with Vera, listening to her story, my world has shifted again. People…men hurt and used that girl in reprehensible ways, and yet she found a way to not only hold on to her humanity but to thrive and not let what happened to her change who she is as a person deep down. She has scars, she doesn’t trust, she stares down men, daring them to try something, anything. She strikes a brave face because she is brave.
“Look, I know you’re struggling with the choices she made. She’s struggling with them. We all are. But she made the only choice she could. And she used it to try to help somebody else. I know you care about her. You’re practically desperate with it. I remember feeling that way about my wife once upon a time. It’s an amazing feeling that only comes around once, maybe twice. Even if you can’t get past what she’s done and be with her, can you at least find a way to forgive her so she can forgive herself? Because if you don’t, she’ll keep torturing herself over it. She’ll close herself off forever. She’s far too young to spend the rest of her life alone.”
His last word echoes through the vacant walkway between the buildings.
Alone.
There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely. My years in prison taught me that. I was never lonely. There were always people around. I could interact or not interact. But regardless of whether I was in a crowd or by myself, I was always alone. I suddenly realize that my anxiety since I found out what Vera did is that old feeling of being alone. Mr. Nash’s words about Vera closing herself off and torturing herself are also about me and the fucked-up shit in my head.
Vera gave me forgiveness when I couldn’t forgive myself. She took me to Cassandra’s grave and helped me find the absolution I wasn’t able to find on my own. Vera forgave me in Cassandra’s place for the anger I carried around since the murder. That was a tremendous gift. It was my turn to do the same for her and I fucked it up. I couldn’t see past my self-righteousness and personal experiences. Vera didn’t have to understand my anger in order to release me from it.
My steps are heavy with these realizations. Vera is inside that building right now, putting herself through hell for her sister and all those other girls. She took that thumb drive and hid, knowing the price she might have to pay someday. She came back to San Diego to find her sister—putting her life at risk—and to save Marie from the same fucker who put her through hell.
She let me in her motel room that first night and all the other nights I came looking for something I somehow instinctively knew only she could give me. She got drunk with me, made love with me, forgave me, cared about me, and laughed with me. She gave me the straight shit and never once lied to me, even when it meant she might lose me.
And I couldn’t give her the only thing she ever asked in return.
Not only that, I tortured her with it, following her around like a lost fucking puppy, wanting her to fix what was broken inside me when it was me who broke it. I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight or tomorrow or the day after that. I don’t know if Vera will want to see me or if I’ll get the chance to see her, but I feel like I need to say something to her, something that will somehow free us both.
We’re on our fifth lap when Mr. Nash gets a text. “They’re moving her.”
“What does that mean? Can we see her?”
He picks up his steps and I follow suit. “I don’t know. Carter didn’t say. Let’s get back in there and find out.”
Chapter 32
Vera