“I would love that. I would love them to know the truth. I don’t have to act like a sister, and with the age gap, it would be weird, but I’d love to know them in any capacity that you’re willing to allow me to.”
Sally nodded again, but her face took on a serious expression. “Rose, we researched you on the internet and I’m really pleased you’re well now. Our daughters are the most important part of this for us, and as long as you’re well, and maintaining that wellness, we have no objection to you spending time with the girls in our presence.”
These people were so generous. Paul hadn’t planned me. He hadn’t even known of my existence, yet here he and Sally were offering me a space, no matter how small, in their family. I felt my tears welling up. They were happy tears but also tears of relief. I knew my father and I had met him, and no part of me felt obsessed or ready to cling. I’d take whatever small parts of their lives they’d offer me and never push for more.
We spent the next half hour chatting about our lives and I left the bar with Sally’s number so we could set up a meeting with my beautiful little sisters. Life may have taken a turn for the worst lately, but this ... this made up for everything.
I was walking on clouds by the time I approached my building. As usual, Ace sat in his car outside. How did this man get any work done? His onslaught of gifts hadn’t stopped. Only this morning I opened my door to find a first-editionAnne of Green Gableswaiting for me outside. The thoughtfulness of his gifts chipped away at my resolve, but I remained firm. I never responded. My inner good girl was mortified by not sending a thank you, but I had told him to leave me alone, so he didn’t deserve that. I wanted him to leave me alone, but I cherished all his gifts. Every single one was a personalized message. You are strong. You are loved. I am here. I lovingly tended to the planthe’d sent me with the news about Paul, and every time I looked at it, hope bloomed.
My tattoo had stopped itching and everything, apart from my career, felt as though it was falling into place. Gloria and I had taken to watchingLove Islandtogether and bingeing real estate reality programs. It was ridiculously fun to watch people buy and sell properties that we could never afford even if we lived three lifetimes. She was witty and hilarious. Spending time with her had become my favorite part of the week. I had given her the bare bones of my past, thinking it only fair that she knew who she was spending time with. She’d laughed and said “Girl, don’t stress about stalking me. If you’re pissing me off, don’t worry, I’ll tell you.” She recounted her own history of depression and the various reactions people generally had when she confided in them about her previous mental health issues. People weren’t always kind, and she told me to be careful about who I told. I was careful, and it wasn’t news I shared easily, but if she was to become a friend, I wanted her to know.
Life was ticking along. Dr. Warren was pleased with me, and I had new relationships with Paul and his family, and Gloria. I’d even continued to socialize with my colleagues. Jason and Sarah were now in some complicated situationship, and I was often the sounding board for both of them.
I opened my mailbox absentmindedly, expecting nothing but advertising or bills. An envelope with a legal firm name on the front sat innocuously at the top of the pile. Dread washed through me. What had I done now? I ripped it open, not even caring that Creeperintendent (Gloria’s name for Glenn) was lurking. My heart rate rhythm turned from anxiety-fast to a pounding of hope.
Re: Consent for Record Sealing Application: Petition for Nondisclosure
Dear Ms. Myrtle,
We act on behalf of Mr. August EDISON in relation to an application he has commenced on your behalf to seek the sealing of your prior criminal record. This action, if successful, will result in your conviction being restricted from public access and allow you to pursue certain employment opportunities, including those involving work with children.
As part of the application, arrangements have been made for your former psychiatrist, Dr. Vincent CONTI, to provide testimony regarding your treatment, rehabilitation, and current stability. Dr. CONTI has confirmed his willingness to appear and attest to your progress.
In addition, we seek your written consent to contact and obtain a professional statement from your current treating psychiatrist, Dr. Sylvia WARREN. This is considered necessary to provide the court with recent and credible evidence of your ongoing mental health management, treatment compliance, and fitness for the intended employment role.
No information will be disclosed beyond what is necessary for the court proceedings and related legal requirements. Please review, sign, and return the enclosed Consent to Release form at your earliest convenience. Should you have questions, you may contact me directly at (512)123-#### during regular business hours.
We cannot guarantee a successful outcome given the nature of the convictions but appreciate your prompt attention to this matter and look forward to assisting you in the resolution of this petition.
Sincerely,
Mara Cole
Attorney at Law
Harrison & Cole, PLLC
Enclosure: Consent to Release Form
Oh, Hound. You make it so hard to walk away from you.
Chapter 38: The Hound—Miracles and atonement
Rose stood in the hallway outside Courtroom 3B, her posture nervous and her movements small. Her name would be called soon, and I would be right behind her, silently cheering her on. She’d complied with the lawyers and even sent a brief “thank you” text to me. I cherished that message, which stood out as the sole reply in a text chain that was 99% populated by my texts, even during the time she’d blocked me.
We filed into the courtroom, and she glanced over her shoulder. I sat in the front row of the gallery, just behind where she would sit at counsel’s table. I sensed she didn’t want to rely on me, but I saw her. I would always see her. I saw the small deflation of her shoulders when she noticed me, and I was relieved that my presence made her feel even slightly steadier.
The bailiff called out “Case number 23-1174. Petition for nondisclosure. Rose Alanna Myrtle.”
Paul and Sally stood a few rows behind me, next to her new friend, Gloria. The judge, a woman in her sixties with sharp eyes and a calm voice, gestured for them to proceed.
Rose’s attorney, Mara, guided her to the table. “Just breathe,” I heard her murmur to Rose. Mara was a true professional and a deeply compassionate woman. She mostly worked on divorce cases, which was how we met through work, but when I told her Rose’s story, she agreed to act on her behalf. Her rates were brutal, but Rose was worth it. What else would I spend my money on?
I leaned forward from the row behind, close enough for my voice to be low. My words were just for my Zahra: “I’m not here for the show, Rose. I’ve got your back.”
She didn’t turn around. If she did, I suspected she might lose the fragile composure she was clinging to.
Mara spoke confidently in her signature unflappable manner. “Your Honor, we’re here today to request the sealing of Ms. Myrtle’s criminal record pursuant to the state’s nondisclosure statute. My client successfully completed her sentence, has had no further legal trouble, and has remained in consistent psychiatric treatment. We have two witnesses to speak on her behalf: Dr. Vincent Conti, the original complainant, and Dr. Sylvia Warren, her current psychiatrist.”
