Chapter 12

Still, as she moved to her workstation and felt eyes on her, she became self-conscious. She remembered Sister Callista always chiding her to stand up straight and to walk proud. She decided that it wasn't the worst thing in the world to be so lucky to have twelve different mothers who cared about everything from your eternal soul to your posture.

Jane held her head high and walked proudly to her cubicle.

Jen arrived and poured herself a cup of coffee. After watering it down, Jen turned and looked at her.

"Good morning," Jane said.

"Good morning," Jen responded.

She didn't ask about her outfit, so Jane didn't volunteer. And she seemed a little unsure since it wasn't her sitting in front of the computer today. Jane had been given the closing argument to type up, and Tim wanted it by Monday. It meant that Jen couldn't check her email and play some online Scrabble game. She sat in the second chair that had somehow, unofficially become Jane's chair.

"So, any plans for the weekend?" Jen asked.

Jane paused in her typing. She liked Jen but knew that the girl had no interest in her plans. She had already figured her out and knew this was a question for her to segue into detailing her own plans for the weekend.

Thankfully Tim arrived before she could think of a response. Tim was tired and cranky. He had to make a closing argument Monday, and it still didn't ring right to him. It wasn't a case that he liked, but it was given to him because he had a knack for making unpleasant things "work."

His client was sitting in jail unable to make bail, and he really didn't like his daily jaunts to the Justice Center. He didn't like the young bastard's attitude. It was the third time he'd gotten caught selling crack. Three strikes. There was no doubt that the punk was going to jail. The question was for how long.

"Good morning," he mumbled as he walked past. He didn't even look at them. The girls responded likewise though he barely heard it as he entered his office. He hung up his coat and sat in his chair. He turned on his computer, looked at the photos on his desk, and then with a sigh he checked his messages on speaker as he looked at his planner.

Jane placed the coffee on his desk.

"Thanks J—" The words fell from his lips as he stared at the tall, dark-skinned woman who he had only seen as frumpy and too skinny.

As his eyes got wide, Jane smoothed down her blouse nervously. Her bangles clacked together, and she took a step back and turned for the door.

Damnit, he should say something nice. He had made her feel self-conscious even when she had surprised him at how pretty she was. "Jane."

"Yes, Tim?" She turned with a cautious look in her eyes.

"That blouse is very nice. What's the occasion?"

She smiled shyly.

Her smile did something to him. It made him feel good that he'd made her smile.

"I was going to meet friends after work tonight," Jane said.

He tried to place her accent and couldn't. She was pretty. He hadn't quite noticed that before. "Where are you from, Jane? You have a slight accent …"

"I'm from Africa, Rwanda."

"Oh." The pieces fell into place. Young orphaned girl living in a convent. It was 1994 when the Hutu's were ordered to kill the Tutsi's. Before it ended, over eight hundred thousand people would be dead—on both sides. He couldn't even fathom that, not in this day and age. But looking at her standing there in her African print blouse and covered in jewels made it disturbingly real. Tim tried to gauge her age. How old would she have been back in 1994? Five, six? Damnit, he hadn't even taken the time to learn anything about her.

"So, how are you getting along?"

"Very well, thank you."

"Well, if there's anything you need, you'll be sure to let me know?"

She nodded. "I will." She left the office and realized she had held her breath nearly the entire time.

Jen frowned at her.

Tim was too busy to take a lunch, so that meant that Martier and Jen were on their own. He had two appointments scheduled with perspective clients, and he still had court. Once he left, Jen practically grabbed her arm and dragged Jane off to lunch.

"Where are we going?" Jane barely had time to grab her sweater.

Jen wasn't pleased that Tim had complimented Jane on her looks. She had been coming to work each day dressed in her finest clothes and he had barely noticed. Jen was not planning to stay with Rick for the rest of her life, not when his thirteen-year-old hated her and had threatened to kill her. She was pretty, so why shouldn't she be married to a lawyer? And Tim had married his assistant once before …

She had never thought to worry about Jane. She'd overheard Tim mention a convent, and Jane herself had mentioned nuns. She suspected that the girl lived with nuns. She certainly dressed as if she did. She didn't even wear a stitch of makeup.

But today she had come in looking … pretty. "I know a great place that serves the best salads."

"Salad?" Jane asked.

Jen gave her a quick look. Of course she didn't have to worry about her figure. The girl was as thin as a … well, as one of those starving people in Africa. Jen grinned at her private joke. "They have other stuff." Jen led the way to the small Italian restaurant.

"Tell me about yourself, Jane. I don't feel like I know you at all."

Jane shrugged. There was nothing interesting about her. "I just graduated from college. I have a degree—"

"I mean, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No." She shook her head.

"Why? Pretty girl like yourself."

Jane stared at her and blinked. "I, well, it's hard to meet boys when you're raised in an all girl's school."

Jen's eyes got wide and she covered her mouth. "Jane, are you an orphan?"

She nodded.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said honestly. "But you're still living there? In the convent?"