Cat asked Oliver about the research they were conducting about her recovery.
“You granted me the ability to make medical decisions for you,” the lawyer explained, “And I struck a deal with the hospital regarding research on your condition. In return, they kept the cops out of your heels as much as possible.”
He seemed concerned so she smiled empathetically and nodded as he explained, “You did the right thing, Oliver. If this research can save a single person’s life, it was worth all I went through.”
Relieved, he sighed, “I’m glad you think like that, Catherine. Are you ready to get out of here?”
“I’m more than ready to get out of this hospital gown. You should get out of here right now if you don’t want to see me in my underwear.
Finally, the day of discharge came by. Cat noticed Mrs. Wallenstein, Catherine's only living relative, never came to visit her. In fact, unless Catherine herself pointed out who her birth mother was, Cat probably wouldn’t recognize the woman.
But the most joyous moment was when she got to put on some real clothes. She was seriously pissed that Oliver was the one that brought her clothes from Catherine’s home but didn’t tell that to the helpful lawyer. Despite her jest moments ago, Cat graciously thanked him and went to the bathroom to get changed.
With some privacy and without any wires or needles in her body, Cat used some of her alone time to talk with her soul-tenant.
[Guess this is it. Our new life starts now, Catherine.]
[What is weighing on your mind?]
Right now, Cat thought. But she didn’t want to drag the mood down. [Yes, but I won’t let her bother me. We already have too much on our plate to worry about your truant and recalcitrant alcoholic parent.]
[We shall see. I’ll cross that bridge when I have to cross it.]
And probably burn it too, Cat added mentally. Catherine wasn’t very forward with information about her family. Cat could picture why and it wasn’t good. Her father died of an early heart attack years ago, leaving Catherine and her mom alone with his fortune. A fortune the no-show mother was eager to burn on every single frivolous thing under the sun.
What Cat wanted to know was where Catherine’s share of her father’s estate was, and in what condition. Now that she was over eighteen and graduated from high school, there was no reason to leave the Wallenstein’s inheritance under that woman’s control. It should be used for their independent life. The dynasty was threatened as she couldn’t have children but it was a problem for future Catherine.
Cat undressed and looked at herself in the mirror. Now that she gained some weight and muscle mass with the physical therapy and high-protein diet, Catherine was very beautiful, stuck in that stage where some stubborn childish traits (like the baby-fat in her cheeks) insisted to remain visible on the budding woman’s body. Not that she was immature or underdeveloped, no. Despite still being severely underweight, Catherine had all the curves of an adult woman and not-so-modest breasts. She had straight brunette hair that grew uncontrollably in these months she spent hospitalized. She picked a bunch of hair and examined it closely.
And to think that all the trouble they were going through was to avoid the social implications of legal abortion. Cat sighed. The entire world already knew her story. She avoided watching or reading the news until they could but the nurses gossip a lot. A ridiculous amount of chatter in the hospital’s corridors. Then Catherine had to sate her social media withdrawal. She’s seen videos of her rescue and the state they were in from a hundred angles. Some jerk even ran the images through some software to create a 360 degrees sphere view of the accident with a ridiculous 4k resolution. You could see the nearby buildings reflected in the pools of blood. Each crack of the bones.
That made Cat sulk.
[Thinking about my next steps. We have a lot of things to do. A meeting with the DA to testify and cross-examine it with the defendant’s attorney, the media hounds out there, and after that the real world. Where everyone will know me as the suicidal woman that killed a guy. Or pity the poor rape victim.]
[You better be. We can’t lose sight of our long-term goal. Get your sinner ass a ticket out of hell.]
Catherine was still a shy teen that was hurt in a way nobody ever should.
[Shoot. We are partners here, Catherine. It is better if we don’t keep secrets from each other.]
[Sorry, I already have someone. HAD,] Cat pretended to be in a sour mood. It failed because Catherine shared every single sensation of their body.
“I’m counting on it, Catherine. You and I are going to be bestest friends forever,” Cat grinned at the mirror, then put on her civilian clothes and tossed the used hospital gown in the trash bin. She didn’t care it would probably be washed, she wanted her vengeance. She’d burn the damn thing if it wouldn’t make Dr. Coleman get her readmitted and sent to the psychiatric ward. And probably give her more Alprazolam to turn her into an unfeeling zombie again. She couldn’t believe people took THAT recreationally just to feel stoned.
Cat walked out of the bathroom and was greeted by Oliver. “Aren’t you forgetting something, miss?”
“What’s wrong?” She looked down to check if she’d buttoned up her shirt and closed the zipper of her skirt. Her clothes seemed to be all in order.
“Are these mine?”
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“They were in your closet,” Oliver barely suppressed a laugh.
“Thank you, Oliver,” Ignoring the ghost’s boasting, Cat took the sandals and sat on the chair to put them on. They were as comfortable as they looked. “All ready. I don’t think I have any personal items to take with me. Just my purse.”
With a chuckle, she opened the purse and removed the velvet bag with her jewelry. The phone was inside, and the electronics she asked Oliver to buy were already back home. That was all. No flowers, no get-well-cards, no visitors. Months with only the nurses, the physicians, Oliver, and the occasional police visit for company. Cat had half the mind to vanish from Catherine’s life as soon as she put her hands on the Wallestein’s dynasty trust. If there was any left. She had no wish to live in such a toxic environment.
“Where do you want to go?” Oliver asked.
Cat tried to remember and when she failed the ghost explained. It was a ridiculously expensive celebrity salon & spa.
“I wanted to go to a spa right away, but I think I should go home and see Esmeralda. She must be worried sick about me,” Cat replied to Oliver and rebutted Catherine’s wishes at the same time. The woes of the 1% could wait.
“Well said,” Oliver beamed. Offering her his arm, he pointed, “This way.”
Instead of going out, they took the elevator to the basement. At the hospital’s parking lot, a black sedan with a uniformed driver waited for them.
Catherine asked. Cat relayed the question.
“I don’t think we should. The media is outside waiting for you and they’ll rush and block the driveway if they know you’re leaving by car. They’re expecting you to be discharged in the afternoon and we’ll be home by then.”
Cat smiled and sighed in relief. They could always post a selfie from home and she had no desire to even remember the hospital. She was eager to start her new life in Catherine’s two-grand shoes.
Oliver opened the rear door for her. Cat got inside and sidled to the other side of the bench to let Oliver join her. Once they were inside, the driver took off.
The car left the hospital’s parking lot and went south on the fifth, giving Cat a clear view of Central Park. She sighed nostalgically as she remembered the many walks William had with Dahlia there. She even cried a little. Then they turned west as they crossed on the 97th. The city blurred past and Cat smelled the Hudson as they turned north, probably headed for the George Washington bridge.
“Oliver, is it okay for me to leave the state?” Cat asked, suddenly worried about getting arrested. The trauma of being sent to jail for her own death still loomed over her head.
“Yes, yes!” He replied with glee. “I talked with the prosecutor, our talk with the DA tomorrow is just ‘pro forma’. They want you to shed light on some details now that the sexual assault investigation is well underway. You’re a witness now and are free to even leave the country if you want. Your passport is with me.”
She chuckled at the thought of how much of Catherine’s life she signed off to the lawyer. Cat had full trust in Oliver and their contract was solid. The lawyer could screw up and rob her but he would throw his reputation and that of his firm down the drain.
“What about the press conference Agatha scheduled?”
“The media wants to publish something about you. If you don’t say something, they’ll make something up in your stead. It is better to make a statement and control the narrative.”
She nodded and thanked him. As the car got stuck in traffic on the bridge, they talked about the cross-examination.
“The DA and detective Martinez want to get your statement cross-examined by the defendant’s lawyer and recorded on video. Your assailant won’t be present, just you, the detective, both lawyers, me, and the judge. This way, you only have to testify once. When he goes on trial, they’ll replay the video if you are not available. It will be uncomfortable to get questioned by the defendant’s lawyer, but it will be a very good thing for you. Please do your best.”
“Why is it a very good thing for me? Isn’t video testimony weak in a trial?”
“It is good for you because unfortunately there is one weak link in all sexual assault cases. The victim. The guy will claim you had consensual intercourse. Since we have no witnesses to say otherwise, it is your word against his. Now, in the XX century, they didn’t give much credit to the victim. Fortunately, nowadays the defendant’s statement is usually disregarded if the victim testifies against him. It will dissuade them from harassing you. Let’s imagine they are the Mafia and you suddenly find your designer sandals replaced by concrete boots at the bottom of the Hudson.”
“Would they really try to assassinate me?” Cat asked to keep the conversation going and to sell the naive image. She had to practice being Catherine.
“I’m sorry to tell you but a dead victim usually means case closed. But with the video, killing you won’t stop the investigation. DNA evidence will show he is the baby’s father. Don’t worry, this guy will go to jail for what he did to you. Furthermore, The DA and I are intending to do a little switcheroo. Make sure to appear intimidated by the defense attorney, not that it will be very difficult. They’ll prepare their defense assuming the video will play during the trial, but you can appear in person and do a better statement and a stronger impression on the jury. This will throw a wrench on their defense plans.”
Cat was truly touched. Oliver was a godsend. She sniffled together with Catherine.
“Thank you, Oliver. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“You’re welcome, miss Catherine. You are still paying my exorbitant hourly fee to stay stuck in traffic,” he grinned.
“Money well spent in my book,” she grinned back.
Cat spent the rest of the ten-mile trip listening to Catherine as the dead girl gave her a primer on their neighborhood. She learned the reason she was in southern Manhattan was that Dr. Esther had recently moved there and she didn’t want to go to a doctor she wasn’t familiar with. Given her peculiar situation, it was understandable.
The neighborhood was gorgeous. Well-mowed lawns, friendly people, beautiful and expensive houses. Not houses, small mansions. Cat tried to estimate the average house price in that section of the neighborhood and assessed the houses there should be between two and four million.
The Wallenstein mansion, not a house, occupied four plots of land. It had a circular brick driveway for guests but they went straight to the side of the main building. The car parked on the left side of the house and the driver opened the door for Cat.
“Thanks,” she said as she walked away from the car to gawk at the red-brick mansion. Forget his previous assessment. He wasn't sure how much the mansion was worth but it was a bloody lot.
[Seriously?]
“Is everything alright, Miss?” Oliver asked.
Cat shut her mouth before she drooled and forced herself to steady her breathing. “Yes, Oliver. I just touched. For a while I couldn’t believe I would ever be back here,” she lied.
A woman walked out of the side door. “Catherine!” She ran to hug Cat.
[Who?] Cat asked.
Catherine clearly liked the woman. Probably the closest thing to a mother the rich girl had. Cat’s suspicion was confirmed when the housekeeper smothered Cat’s head on her chest and cried.
“You scared the living ghost out of me!” Esmeralda vented. “Don’t ever do that again, Cathy!”
The reason the Latin caretaker didn’t visit her in the hospital must be Mrs. Wallenstein, Cat decided. The girl's nanny must've tried to go there. Why would Mrs. Wallenstein estrange her own daughter? Shame? Vengeance? She feared delving into that dark truth of the Wallenstein family.
“I’m sorry,” Cat rubbed the woman’s back. “I wasn’t in my right mind at the time. I forgot I had people who cared about me.”
Cat made sure nobody was looking and winked.
Esmeralda pushed Cat away at arm’s length and proceeded to pat her body to see if everything was in place.
“I’m fine, Esmeralda. The doctors said I made a full recovery.”
The older woman still sniffled and bawled as she shook her head. “I saw the photos of you broken on the sidewalk. I couldn’t tell what was you and what was the man you fell on. What a terrible thing to do, my Cathy!”
Satisfied Cat was indeed healthy as a fiddle, Esmeralda bear-hugged her again. They both kept crying for a few minutes until Cat grew tired and tapped the housekeeper until she let go. Despite being fully recovered, she hadn’t regained her stamina yet. She had a few dozen sessions of physical therapy and months of workouts with a personal trainer ahead of her.
“I need to rest, Esmeralda. We can talk more later, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
“I had your room cleaned this morning. Come. Let’s get you in more comfortable clothes and I can tuck you in just like in the old times,” without letting Cat away from her, Esmeralda giggled as she led the girl and Oliver into the mansion.