Mrs. Curt ran her hair, as she screamed with breath hitched. The thought of having Bright in the case wouldn't help her. Her hands tapped on the steering wheel, and she bit her fingers, trying to fetch an idea.
And just then, an idea pumped in. She smiled and started her car, driving straight to her client's house. Her hands were trembling, but she tried to control it.
An hour gone, she hopped out of the car and then. She was in front of the tall building, but it was an old house, built ages ago. She shoved her head off, trying to waive the childhood experience she had.
Her aunt lived there, and she could recall her running around the street, her car. That was one of the best memories she could glance at. She took a deep breath and slammed the car door closed.
A step alone felt her heart heavy; every single item hadn't been replaced, old and unique as it was. A 7-story building, she walked inside. Her eyes lingered around the beauty it had, clothes dried on ropes, and some people's eyes perched on her every step.
She exhaled deeply before walking upstairs luckily for her Mr. Anders's home was on the second floor, and that didn't cause her any back pain. A few meters of climbing the stairs and breathing heavily.
She arrived at his apartment. The brown door was cracked at the edge. She lifted her hand for a knock but got held of it. "It's just a simple talk, and nothing will affect me." She whispered some thoughtful words to herself.
This time she knocked, and then a voice pulled from inside. "Honey, who is there?" She could hear Mr. Anders' voice from inside. "Don't worry, let me help you out." A female voice showed up, and Mrs. Curt's eyes wandered at him having a woman in his life. Mr. Anders never mentioned he was married or had a family.
She breathed in and out as the lady slid the door open. "Please, who are you?" Mrs. Mrs. Curts scanned her whole body. The lady wore short pink shorts with a black T-shirt.
"Umm, I'm—" Curt saw herself stammering as she pinched her fingers. "Let's let her in." Mr. Anders commanded.
The lady hissed and moved aside as she walked inside. Her eyes scanned the whole place, from the large screen TV to the blue dining table close to the kitchen. She kept on staring, and then she met a portrait on the wall. The same one she saw on her boss's table.
"Oh, Mrs. Curts." Mr. Ander shouted as he stood up, and ran toward her, and hugged her tightly.
"Who is she?" the lady from earlier asked, folding her hands and resting on the wall. "You don't know her? She was my lawyer." Mrs. Curts watched him carefully explain it to her.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were one of his girlfriends," she stated.
"Girlfriend?" "Mr. Curt asked," as she muttered words down her throat. "Yes, I'm so sorry about that. Do you mind having something before you leave?" The lady said.
"Nope, I'm good." Curt shook her head in disapproval, but Tracy held her wrist and dragged her over to an empty seat at the parlor. A little smirk curled out of Mr. Anders. It seemed it was Andres's time to glance at Curt.
"I would be right back, just a minute." She said, placed a kiss on Mrs. Curts before walking toward the dining room, and then to the kitchen. "What a surprise? I hope everything is okay?" He folded his legs together as he smirked.
"Yes, I am, and thank you. I would love to know how you got assaulted." She asked, pulled her jotter, and started writing. "When I was heading back to my home place, I got a call from someone; I have never heard or seen that person." He spoke.
"What did the person say?" Mrs. Curt raised her eyebrows as she asked. "The person? He threatened me and ordered that I should report myself and continue the court case. Like, how on earth would I do that? And Mr. Willam isn't in for this."
"Have you heard anything from the same person after that?" Mrs. Mrs. Curts asked after jotting down.
"Not at all, my home isn't safe anymore," he groaned and shed tears."How? I do not understand." Mrs. Mrs. Curts asked again.
"Someone had been spying on us for the past couple of weeks. I tried calling your number, but you refused to pick up," he snarled. "I refuse to pick? Hell no! Maybe I didn't notice; I'm sorry." She pleaded.
They all paused immediately. Tracy walked over to the dining room. It was a two-bathroom flat, and that wasn't going to please her. Tracy placed the food tray on the table and walked over to them. "What are you both talking about?" She asked, but Mrs. Curts's eyes refused to stare at her. Mr. Anders stood up and held Tracy's hands as they walked over to the dining room.
Curt watched carefully as she stared at the couple. She wished it could be her, but her life had been a mess already, and no drama could be added up.
"Come and join us, sis." Tracy waved at Curt from the dining room. "Nah, I'm good, thank you." Curt responded and shoved her head. "Come on, you visited, and I need to take care of you." Mr. Anders spoke.
Mrs. Curts took a deep breath, hissed, and walked toward the dining room.
Each step she took had peace in her. Her home had always been lonely and soulless, with no chance of happiness, but here she was experiencing everything. She pulled an empty seat and sat down, inhaling deeply.
Tracy tugged out some foods at Curt's place; the fresh steak meat, pork stew with rice, and fresh pineapple juice were present in front of Curt. Without further thought, Curt grabbed her spoon and started digging into her food. Mr. Anders stared at her, a particular piece of meat stuck on his teeth; he tried clicking off the meat pieces.
"Why did you replace me with another lawyer?" Curt managed to croak.
"Replace you? It's not my fault and wouldn't be. I tried out your number, but it wasn't going through." He explained as he drank the last drop of pineapple. "Really? That almost cost me my job." Curt yelled.
"It's not what I…me—" Mr. Anders tried to plead but got the cold shoulder.
"Do you see that?" Tracy asked suddenly.
"What?"