Chain Reaction 3.46: Denied

A/N: Alex is visiting his lawyer, but fyi, this isn't a flashback to the time when Emily and Drake were in the park and Alex was visiting his lawyer. This is a following visit from that one. Just in case it confuses anyone.
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Alex

     "Good afternoon, Mr. Furston." My lawyer had called me and said he wished for me to come by, that he had news he'd rather tell me in person. It's my hope that he has a good report on getting Graham's appeal through.

     "Thank you for coming in, Mr. Goth." As ever, he retains his relaxed formality.

     "You had something you wished to tell me," I prompt. If I let him, he'll try to engage in small talk before getting down to business. Most of the time, I don't mind, but today is different. Emily is getting progressively more depressed at her father's incarceration and her family's humiliation.

     Mr. Furston gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

     I remember when I first met Furston: when Dad's company collapsed. After he helped me untangle that mess and kept me from going to jail along with my father, I owed him a lot of money. He doesn't come cheap. He'd said he knew I'd one day be able to repay him, and I did.

     I like the man. He doesn't judge me for having a wife almost half my age. He married his interior decorator, a woman thirty years his junior.

      After he gets settled in his own chair, I lean forward and ask, "I assume this has to do with Graham Taylor's appeal?" It's about time to get this sorted. Emily's depression is worse. She's trying to hide it from me, and that fact bothers me more than anything--how she won't let me in, won't let me help.

     What bothers me most is how she misses him and how I know she's thinking that if she hadn't have married me that she would've gotten to spend more time with him. I can't have her regretting she chose to be with me.

     Honestly, if it were entirely up to me, I would let him rot in prison. After all, he sent my father to prison, even if he deserved it. Even after everything, I still harbor a great dislike for the man.

     But that doesn't matter because my precious Emily wants him freed. I knew I couldn't expect an immediate action from the government, but honestly, how often does this sort of thing happen? There can't be much of a backlog of cases.

     "His appeal has been denied." Before I can ask on what grounds, he continues. "The state refuses, saying the original judgement still stands. They're not interested in hearing how good Geoffrey Landgraab was. The guilty sentence remains that Mr. Taylor handed over classified information. His own testimony nullifies any hope of proving otherwise."

     "It's got to be S.I.M.S.! It doesn't make sense otherwise!" Whatever happened to justice?

     Well, Alex, I tell myself, it is actually justice. The man was a spy. Then he betrayed them by feeding information to Geoffrey Landgraab. Then Landgraab industries got linked into all sorts of messes, and Graham was implicated to be one of the ones to begin its coordination. What the feds refuse to believe, or conveniently forget, is that all that started after Geoffrey's death. Malcolm used things already in place and twisted them once he got the helm.
     But they have a point. Graham still broke the rules. Of course he's in a right pickle now because of it.

     "If it is," Furston replies, "there is little I can do." He doesn't look like he believes me on the agency thing. But I know for a fact that the agency has a way of protecting its own, even when the people there discover something nasty. I guess they thought this was too nasty, especially when linked with the Landgraab debacle.

     No. I LOST? My heart rate increases. I can't let this happen. I've hacked into the government before; I can do it again. This is what I get for wanting to stay morally sound. If only there was another way...

     I remember what I read in the paper at breakfast. "Did you see the retraction from The Eden Edition this morning?" They'd published loads trashing Graham as a Landgraab lackey, blaming him for everything they could think of, most of it libelous.

     "I have. They're sending a formal apology to Mrs. Taylor herself, and now they're beginning a campaign to see to Mr. Taylor's release." He looks up at me. "I wondered if you had anything to do with that." His eyes look almost accusatory, as if he's asking, 'Why have me do all this only to go behind my back and rouse up the press?'

      "I'd assumed it was you--to get the press on our side during the appeal." The appeal is denied, and now the press is up in arms. It almost makes sense. I'm missing a piece of the puzzle here, though. Something isn't gelling logically in my mind.

     But if they denied the appeal, what more can we expect? Can something like this be declared a mistrial? It's unprecedented here in Eden.
     But who is pushing the press to switch sides like this? Who else is interested in getting Graham freed?
     In another light, this will make it more difficult to change things by hacking into the system. It's easier when it's under the radar. This case is too high profile. Someone would be sure to notice a discrepancy.
     My mind flies along, asking question after question, and Mr. Furston sits quietly at his desk, letting me think. I've determined that my hacking skills would be more difficult to get away with. It's the matter of who is behind the press that bothers me. Mob mentality makes leaders nervous. Perhaps I could sink money into that.
     I look up to find that Furston has swiveled around to get on his computer. "Thank you for your attempt, Mr. Furston." I stand up, and he turns back around. "I'll contact you if I need further assistance." He offers me a forced smile.

     "Cheer up, Mr. Goth. It's not hopeless yet."
      I don't reply. It's almost hopeless!

      I pull into a random parking lot and let out a yell, still sitting in my car. My poor steering wheel bears the brunt of an attack, even if I carefully avoid the horn. The last thing I want to do is call attention to myself. I'm fighting to free a man I don't even like, even if I love his daughter.
      What am I going to do?! Emily pulls away from me a little more every day. She won't even let me comfort her like she used to. She knows. She knows I don't give a rat's plum if Graham is in jail. Even when she tries to act normal for Alaric's sake, I can still see it in her eyes.
      I'm working at freeing Graham to save my marriage. I won't deny that is the underlying reason. I can't lose Emily, and the longer he stays in prison, the worse it gets. On the surface, someone would think she's pulling out of it, but I know her. She's folding into herself, building walls. And feeling helpless to stop it is killing me. She won't confide in me how she feels because of the immortal enmity that exists between her dad and me. She thinks I can't be her ally in this. I've been trying to prove her wrong.

     And now I have to return home with news of my failure.
     "No!" I yell into my hands. Furston is the best out there, and not even he could pull off an appeal.
     I picture Emily's face as it will be when I tell her, and I want to simultaneously throw a tantrum while also curling into a ball and crying. This will be a serious nail in the coffin of my marriage. The hope of my help will be all but snuffed out.
     I put my car in gear and exit the parking lot, heading for home with a heavy heart.

     I get home to find Emily and Alaric dashing around, looking for things. "What's going on?" I ask when I manage to get her to stop for a moment.

     "How did it go?" Her eyes look pleading, begging for good news, hoping I've saved the day.
     This is a nightmare.
     "The appeal was denied." I want to crawl into a hole and die.
     Her reaction surprises me. She doesn't look shocked or sad. She merely lets out a puff of air with a 'Well, plum' expression. "It doesn't matter what they said. We can still do something about it." She grabs her coat and puts it over her arm.
     "Where are you going?" I've finally gathered that she's going out somewhere.
     "Drake called and told me that people have gone into the streets in protest. I'm joining them."
     "Drake?" Since when does she talk to Drake? I'd thought she'd blocked him after those texts he sent her a few years back.
     "Yes. He said they're organizing in the park next to his house. I don't know when I'll be home." She calls for Alaric.

    "Bye, Daddy!" He gives me a quick hug before dashing out the door behind his mother.

     She didn't even ask me if I'd go.

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Mr. Furston's Office (Furston & Howle--bonus points if you get the joke. Hint: "A 3 hour tour") by me, compatible with base game, no CC
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