Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Devil Wears Prada or any of its characters.
Notes: This is a standalone story (calling it a one shot just didn't seem right) not related to my other DWP stories. This is AU because Andy did not quit in Paris and is now first assistant. An attempted rape is mentioned. Plans of a violent act are discussed. However, nothing graphic is described because neither act happened.
Thank you jazwriter and punky for looking this over. Any and all mistakes are mine. I'm just greedy that way.
Thirty minutes after the incident
"Call 9-1-1 and security." Andy cupped Miranda's cheek. With her thumb she swiped the single tear that escaped from the watery blue eyes. "Then you need to call Jeremy."
"Andrea," Miranda whispered. "I …"
"It'll be okay, sweetheart." Andy shook her head as Miranda opened her mouth to respond. "After you make sure the girls are okay, call your lawyer and Leslie. Make sure I get to talk to your lawyer first."
"How can you be so calm?" Miranda choked back a sob and closed her eyes.
"I just have to. I'm going to sit on the couch. Okay?" Andy swallowed and gave Miranda a pained smile.
Miranda nodded as she reached across the desk for her phone. Andy moved to the couch, trying to ignore the way Miranda's hand trembled.
Andy dropped down on the couch. She struggled to keep her attention on Miranda as she made the necessary calls. But her eyes kept drifting to the body in front of Miranda's desk. The blood stain had spread. Carpet will need to be replaced, she thought as she shivered. She rubbed her arms, trying to generate some warmth. The office was cold. Or maybe it was just her. Andy looked up when she heard the distant ding of the elevator. Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall toward the office. Security or police? she wondered. Ah, security.
Two security guards stood uncertainly in the doorway. One paled and looked like he was going to be sick. The other gave his partner a disgusted look and moved to stand by the couch.
The next couple of hours were a blur to Andy. The police arrived and took control of the scene. Miranda's lawyer arrived with the NYC police detectives. Andy was cuffed and led away. She felt numb as she was gently pushed into the back of the squad car. The flashing blue and red lights seemed garish and out of place as they reflected off the front of the Elias-Clarke building. Andy stared blindly out the window and paid no attention to the scenery whizzing by. When they arrived at the precinct, Andy was docile as she was led to an interview room. It wasn't long before a middle-aged woman stepped into the room.
"Hello, Ms. Sachs. My name is Detective Wendy Miller." The detective set a pad of paper on the table. "Would you like anything to drink? We have coffee, water, or soft drinks."
Andy shook her head. "No, thank you. If you don't mind, I would like to wait to speak to a lawyer before I talk to you." Andy kept her expression neutral and her voice even and low.
"Ms. Sachs, if we bring lawyers into this now, there is no way I can help you." Detective Miller's voice seemed to project a worried concern.
"Sorry, detective. Pre-law. I'll wait for my lawyer." Andy smiled politely and folded her hands in her lap.
Detective Miller shrugged, picking up her pad of paper before leaving.
Within half an hour there was a soft knock on the door. Robert Conrad stuck his head in to check that he was in the right place. "How are you, Ms. Sachs?"
Andy stood and held up her handcuffed hands. "Please call me Andy, Mr. Conrad. I'd offer to shake your hand but." She gave him a one-shoulder shrug before sitting down again. "Before we get started, sir, have you spoken to Miranda?" When the man shook his head, Andy relaxed slightly.
"Only briefly. She said that you wanted to speak with me first. Do you want to tell me what happened tonight? And please call me Robert." The lawyer pulled a legal pad and pen out of his briefcase.
"Thank you, Robert. Before I tell you about tonight, you need to understand something important." Andy paused to make sure she had the man's attention. "I love Miranda Priestly and her daughters. I think Miranda cares for me also." Andy was impressed that the only reaction Robert gave to those statements was to raise an eyebrow. "Miranda is going to consider tonight her fault. She and Irv Ravitz have fought bitterly throughout the years. She is going to feel responsible for Irv's actions tonight. Please don't let her say anything to the police that gives the impression that tonight was her fault. It wasn't." Andy took a deep breath and looked Robert in the eye. "I take full responsibility for the death of Irv Ravitz."
"Tell me what happened." Robert jotted a couple of notes on his legal pad.
"We were working late." Andy closed her eyes briefly. "Miranda was going over the Book and I was reconciling her expense account. I was standing next to her as she was seated at her desk. Irv stormed in as I was asking a question. He started yelling at Miranda." Andy swallowed and wished she had asked the detective for some water. "He said he was tired of her shit and she had to go. Miranda said she wasn't going anywhere." Andy paused to gather her thoughts. "He seemed to go still. Even his voice was cold. He said fine. It would be Miranda's fault when her daughters were kidnapped and raped. Miranda jumped to her feet. Irv said he knew people. If she didn't leave Runway, it would be her fault."
Andy bowed her head and rested her clasped hands on the table. "All I could think of was that the girls were in danger. He was going to hurt them! I had to stop him." She took a deep breath and continued. "Miranda had a handgun in the top right-hand drawer of her desk. I don't remember opening the drawer or pulling the trigger. Irv clutched his chest and fell. I do remember the look of surprise on his face. I looked down, and Miranda's hand was on my arm while the gun was pointed to the right of the desk. She pushed my hand when I fired a second shot."
Robert's face was impassive as he furiously scribbled on the pad.
Andy waited for the writing to stop and the questions to start.
Robert set the pen down and contemplated the woman in front of him. He asked several questions to clarify a few points. He finally had all the information he needed to get started. "My specialty isn't criminal law, but I have someone to call. In the meantime, I'll do what I can for you. I'll call the detective in so that you can give your statement. You will be arrested for murder, but that is only a preliminary charge. Formal charges will be brought by the district attorney's office. When you make your statement, stress that you were acting to protect Miranda's daughters."
When the detective returned, Andy went over the events just as she had with her lawyer. After she signed the statement, Andy was arrested for the death of Irv Ravitz.
xxx
The next few days were surreal. Based on Robert Conrad's recommendation, Miranda hired the best criminal defense attorney on the east coast. Andy met several times with her new attorney, Roger Morris, and told him about her history with Irv Ravitz. Attorney Morris recommended that she plead not guilty when the DA charged her with manslaughter in the second degree. His defense strategy was that Andy had acted to protect Miranda's daughters from imminent danger.
During her arraignment the court decided, against Attorney Morris' passionate arguments, that Andy was a flight risk and denied bail. Her first trial date would be in twelve months. Andy was transferred to a correctional facility to await trial.
Meanwhile, Runway was in shock. Miranda did not come in for several days. Carmen, the former second assistant, supervised the cleaning and redecorating of Miranda's office. Off and on throughout the day, random Runway employees would stop by and silently stare at the inner office. Nigel, Emily, and Serena closed ranks and would not speak to anyone of the incident or Andy's involvement.
Speculation ran wild because Irv Ravitz had a well-known reputation as a bully. Several rumors concerning Irv's behavior with different models began to circulate. Within days, someone leaked Andy's statement of what Irv said that night. Although Irv's threats were extreme, most who knew the man believed he was capable of having them carried out.
Miranda returned to Runway the following week, and work soon settled back into a routine. The atmosphere at Runway remained somber and quiet. A new second assistant soon became a fixture in the outer office, but Miranda barely seemed to notice.
Nigel took it upon himself to handle Andy's affairs. He was her closest friend since her previous friends had abandoned her when she broke up with her former boyfriend, Nate. The day after the incident, Nigel called her parents to let them know what happened. Their response shocked him. They thanked him for calling and told him they would not be contacting Andy. One of the New York papers had already told them what had happened and asked for their comments. As far as they were concerned, the current situation was entirely Andy's fault. Runway ruined her, and they wanted nothing further to do with their daughter. In their opinion, none of this would have happened if she had gone to Stanford Law as they had wanted.
After that debacle, Nigel set about having everything in Andy's apartment packed and stored. Andy signed a power of attorney form so that he could access her accounts and pay whatever bills she had outstanding.
During one of his weekly visits, Nigel brought Andy up to date on the latest Runway news. After discussing the new layouts and photographer problems, Nigel made his usual request. "Miranda, Emily, and Serena asked again if they could visit."
Andy shook her head. "No. Please, Nigel, I don't want them to see me like this. Hell, I really don't want you to see me like this." She looked down at her baggy orange jumpsuit. She'd lost at least five pounds since that night. "Miranda and Serena would freak out, and Emily would die of envy." She smirked at Nigel's eye roll.
"Fine. I've got to go, sweetie. I'll see you next week." Nigel put his hand on the glass pane that separated him from his friend. When he hung up the phone, Andy blew him a kiss before she left the inmate side of the visitor's room.
That night Andy curled up in her bunk, waiting for lights out. She stared at a wrinkled picture of Miranda and the twins as if committing their faces to memory. When the cellblock went dark, she slid the picture under her pillow. She had made it through another day. Tomorrow she would do it all over again.
Eleven months after the incident
Dear Andrea,
Roger Morris told me that he has requested and been granted a continuance. He said he needs time to go over the new evidence and prepare your defense.
He has been aware of this new evidence for the past month. I do not understand what is taking him so long. If you are not satisfied with his handling of your case, you need only to let me know. I will hire another attorney who hopefully is able to navigate our judicial system in a more expeditious manner.
The twins asked me to tell you hello. They miss you and hope you are well.
Runway is progressing. However, the office does not run as smoothly without you here. You were always able to correct much of the incompetence before it had a chance to cross my desk.
You are aware of my feelings. Nothing has changed. Please take care of yourself,
Miranda
One year, six months after the incident
Nigel trudged up the townhouse steps, cradling a bottle of very expensive blended scotch whiskey. Miranda had called earlier and asked him to stop by around 9:00 p.m. She had something important to discuss with him. The girls were away with friends, so they would not be disturbed. He decided to bring this bottle of Royal Salute as a special treat. They deserved it after the last eighteen months.
He barely brushed the doorbell when the front door was flung open. Miranda stepped aside as he entered. After she closed and locked the door, Nigel handed her the bottle and shrugged out of his coat.
"I'm impressed." Miranda ran a finger over the relief on the blue porcelain flagon.
Nigel hung his coat in the closet and closed the door. He straightened his sleeves as he gazed at his friend. "I used to give my father a bottle for Christmas every couple of years. He would savor it and make a bottle last until the next gift." He pointed to the bottle held with gentle care in Miranda's hands. "That was to be his Christmas present the year he died."
Miranda nodded as she handed the bottle back. "I'm sorry he did not get to enjoy it."
"Don't be." Nigel fell in step with Miranda as she moved down the hall toward the sitting room. "When my brothers and I were going through his things, we found the previous bottle I had given him. There was enough left for us to raise a toast. My father never understood me, but he loved me just the same." Nigel set the bottle on the coffee table before sitting on the loveseat.
"Then we should drink a toast to your father's memory." Miranda set two glasses near the bottle before getting comfortable in the wingback chair across from Nigel.
Nigel smiled as he poured two glasses. He handed one to Miranda before raising his own. "To Papa."
Miranda hummed at the warm smooth taste. "Your father showed remarkable restraint stretching a bottle for two years," she said softly.
"That he did," Nigel agreed before taking another sip. He allowed the companionable silence to rest between them before bringing up what was undoubtedly on both their minds. "How did your meeting go?" Nigel poured a little more into each of their glasses before sitting back and crossing his legs.
"Roger is confident. But." Miranda sighed and rubbed her forehead.
"You once told me you lived on hope. I think for the first time in over a year we have something to be hopeful for." Nigel sipped his drink and studied his friend. The last year and a half had been hard on her. She had done her best to hide her feelings, but he could tell. The spark in her eyes had dulled. Miranda had never been effusive in her appreciation of fashion, but even her understated enjoyment was lacking.
Miranda toyed with her necklace as she considered Nigel's words. "I'm going to accept the board's offer," Miranda said softly. "They have agreed to my terms, but I need your help." She stared into her glass.
"Anything." Nigel set his glass down and leaned forward.
"I would like for you to be the interim editor-in-chief of Runway. I think two years should be enough time to prepare Emily. By then Men's Runway will be ready to launch." Miranda locked eyes with her friend. "It's going to be a lot of work. You'll have to take care of Runway, train Emily, and lay the groundwork for Men's Runway. I'll do what I can, but I will have my own duties."
Nigel blew out a breath and fell back in the chair. "Wow." He rubbed his hand over his bald head. The next two years would be insane. In the end, he would have his own magazine to run. Nigel picked up his glass and held it toward Miranda. "I'm in," he said with a half-smile.
"Thank you," Miranda whispered. She held up her glass before drinking to the future. At least one small piece of the future was settled.
"Did you have to do much to convince the board?" Nigel had wondered how much trouble his friend would have pushing through her agenda.
"No. They realize it was their complacency which allowed that evil to exist. The arrests scared them." Miranda pursed her lips.
"Thank God Tom found those hard drives." Nigel shook his head before taking another sip. After Irv's death, the board had elevated Tom Carlson to chairman of the Elias-Clarke Publishing board of directors. The man was nothing like Irv. Nigel figured the board put him in the position so that they could control him and not get their hands dirty.
Miranda hummed her agreement as she sipped her drink. "Thankfully he was an honorable man and turned everything over to the police and district attorney."
Tom Carlson had been in Irv's old office for almost a year before he'd discovered the hidden safe. Not having the key or combination, he had directed maintenance to break it open. Inside were several external hard drives and a handful of flash drives. Tom had played two of the video files before locking everything inside another safe and calling the police. The drives had contained video logs of Irv Ravitz bragging and gloating about his misdeeds. Nigel would never understand why a nominally intelligent man would keep records of his crimes. The only conclusion he could draw was that Irv was insane and believed himself untouchable. The details of the rapes he had committed, the money he had stolen from the company, and the crimes he'd planned to commit made him sick.
They had made Tom Carlson sick, too. He had immediately stepped down as the chair. Four other board members were arrested based on leads provided by Irv's video journals. The rest of the board asked Miranda to step in as chair to save the reputation of the company. Nigel knew from previous discussions that Miranda would only agree as long as she was given free rein to do whatever was necessary to make amends. The board had few options but to comply. Miranda had mentioned that her first order of business would be to hire private detectives to track down each and every woman victimized by Irv Ravitz and his cronies. She would see that Elias-Clarke offered generous settlements and public apologies.
"I am uncertain whether the company will survive once we are able to find those Irv wronged and offer settlements. The payouts and resulting publicity may very well be enough to sink the company. Rest assured, though," Miranda said softly, her eyes focused on her glass, "if it looks like Elias-Clarke will go under, I will split off Runway and Men's Runway to sell to another interested publisher. At least those magazines will survive and have the chance to thrive. I won't let them become casualties to Irv's misdeeds."
Nigel sipped his drink as they fell into another silence, this one filled with weighty thoughts. He knew Miranda worried about the start of Andy's trial next week. Andy had told him she had briefly considered not fighting the charges. However, her attorney had felt they had a better chance of a favorable outcome by taking the case to trial rather than by accepting the DA's plea bargain.
"We'll meet with the department heads tomorrow afternoon." Miranda sighed before swallowing the last of her drink. "I'd like to meet with you and Emily first thing in the morning."
Nigel murmured his agreement. The two friends sat quietly with their thoughts a little while longer before Nigel bid Miranda goodnight.
xxx
It was late and Miranda was trying to review some preliminary financial statements. However, all she could think of was that Andrea's trial would start the next day. She hadn't seen the young woman since that night, and she was still miffed that Andrea had refused to allow her to visit. When Nigel had told her of Andrea's wishes, she had been supremely hurt. Then Nigel had explained why he thought Andrea didn't want to see her.
"She's worried how you'll react to seeing her behind bars," Nigel had explained. "She told me that you consider this your fault because of your long-standing feud with Irv. Andy doesn't want you to feel any worse."
After Miranda thought about it, she conceded that Nigel was correct. Andrea was just protecting her. Again.
She closed the folder with the reports and thought about going to bed. Miranda had just come around her desk when Caroline poked her head into the study.
"Mom?" Caroline shuffled her feet as she stood in the doorway. She was dressed in a white t-shirt and blue sleep shorts.
"What is it, Bobbsey?" Miranda held out her hand and guided her youngest daughter to sit with her on the couch.
"Andy's trial starts tomorrow. Why can't Cassidy and I go?" Caroline plucked at her t-shirt.
"We've discussed this," Miranda admonished gently. "You have school. Besides the press is going to be especially aggressive. I don't want you anywhere near there."
Caroline leaned against her Mom's shoulder. "I don't know why they just won't let her go. She was protecting us."
Miranda put her arm around the girl and kissed the top of her head. "I know. Her attorney will do everything he can." She hugged her daughter and relaxed into the corner of the couch.
"Why did she have to stay in jail before the trial?" Caroline snuggled closer.
"The district attorney said Andrea was a flight risk." Miranda let out a weary sigh. "He was afraid that I would help her leave the country."
Caroline leaned back to look into her mother's eyes. "Would you have done that?"
Miranda raised an eyebrow and shrugged one shoulder. "Possibly. But Andrea would never have agreed to run away. I think it was an excuse. The district attorney and I have had words in the past. He may have allowed his personal feelings to interfere with his official duties. Andrea's attorney told me Andrea did not want to fight the decision."
Caroline ducked her head and played with the hem of her sleep shorts. "Do you love her, Mom?"
"Yes," Miranda whispered. "Even before the incident, I loved her. I just never did anything about it."
Her daughter chewed her lip. "Does she love you?"
"Yes, darling. I truly believe she loves me." Miranda hugged Caroline and blinked her eyes to clear the tears waiting to fall.
"I'm glad." Caroline turned her head and kissed her Mom's cheek. "Night, Mom." She slid off the couch and headed to the door.
"Goodnight, darling. I'll be up to check on you and your sister in a little while." Miranda waited until her daughter was gone before she allowed the tears to flow.
xxx
As the car pulled up to the curb, Miranda took a deep breath and slipped on her sunglasses. Roy held the car door open and Miranda smoothly stepped out of the silver Mercedes before making her way to the courthouse steps. Staring straight ahead, she heard Nigel, Emily, and Serena fall in formation behind her. As she went up the steps, she could hear others following her little group and wondered who they were. Probably the press, she decided. If so, she would not give them the satisfaction of looking over her shoulder.
Once inside, Miranda led her growing group up the stairs to the second floor courtroom. She paused briefly by the open large wooden doors. Pursing her lips, she glided to the front of the gallery and slid into a seat that would be directly behind the defense table. Emily and Serena slipped around Miranda to sit on her left. Nigel took the seat to her right. The rest of the visitor seats rapidly filled up.
Miranda turned to say something to Nigel when her attention was caught by a familiar face in the row behind her. She turned fully to better see the crowd. Turning back to her friend, she narrowed her eyes. "Is anyone working at Runway today?"
Nigel shifted casually and crossed his legs. "Carmen stayed to answer the phones." Before Miranda could say anything further, he cut her off. "Let it go, darling. They all wanted to be here. The work will get done with a few late nights."
Miranda huffed and stared straight ahead. Swallowing hard, she willed her watery eyes to clear. It wouldn't do for her employees to realize how deeply touched she was by this gesture. Someone might make inane comments regarding melting and ice queens.
Soon the attorneys and court employees entered and took their places. Miranda's breath hitched when Andrea was escorted to the defense table. The young woman smiled briefly at her friends before turning her attention to her attorney for last minute instructions.
Miranda touched Nigel's arm. "The suit is acceptable," she whispered. Andrea looked very serious and professional in the gunmetal gray suit and blue silk blouse. She knew that Nigel had arranged for the clothes and shoes to be delivered to Andrea's attorney a few days ago. She agreed with his assessment that the clothes created the impression of solemn decorum.
Finally, they rose as the judge entered and called the court into session. Miranda folded her hands in her lap as she listened to the prosecution and defense's opening remarks. She spent the time staring impassively at the back of Andrea's head and preparing herself. Waiting was never her strong suit. After an interminable amount of time, Lisa Wilson, assistant district attorney, called Miranda as her first witness.
Miranda moved to the witness stand and turned to face the bailiff holding a Bible. She mentally rolled her eyes as she placed her hand on the book. Miranda had been a child when she had ceased believing in any organized religion. As far as Miranda was concerned, a person either told the truth or didn't, and swearing on a religious symbol was a meaningless, archaic tradition.
The prosecuting attorney waited until Miranda had been sworn in and identified herself before approaching the witness stand.
"Ms. Priestly, please describe your relationship with the defendant," Attorney Wilson said.
"Please call me Miranda." She waited a beat for the attorney to nod her acceptance before continuing. "Andrea Sachs was my first assistant." Miranda paused, her gaze meeting Andrea's, "She is my friend." Miranda pulled her focus back to the attorney in front of her.
"Miranda, please describe the events of the night in question." Attorney Wilson tilted her head as she watched Miranda.
"It was late, and I was in my office working on the Book." Miranda shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable in the hardback wooden chair.
"What is the Book?" Attorney Wilson asked.
"It is a mock-up of the current issue of Runway. Every evening I review the additions and changes made during the work day. I usually work on the Book at home, but on that evening, I had stayed at the office since my daughters were with their father." Miranda briefly wondered what would have happened if she hadn't been there that night.
"What was Ms. Sachs doing during this time?"
"Andrea was working on my expense account." Miranda relaxed slightly. The questioning was proceeding just as Roger had predicted.
"Where was she when Mr. Ravitz came to your office?"
"Andrea had a question concerning one of the receipts. She was standing next to me behind my desk." Miranda pursed her lips and silently apologized to Andrea for what she was about to say.
"What happened then?" Attorney Wilson moved in front of the judge's bench and turned toward the witness.
"Irv was angry for some reason. He barged in and told me I needed to step down as editor. Of course I refused. Then he threatened to have my daughters kidnapped and raped. He boasted that the horrors visited upon them would be my fault. He said that they would be told that I could have stopped it but didn't, and that they would hate me for the rest of their lives." Miranda felt her throat tighten and her stomach roil. It made her physically ill to repeat what Irv had said that night.
"What happened then?" Attorney Wilson asked.
Miranda swallowed and glanced at Andrea. The girl was looking back at her with a sad smile. When she caught Miranda's eye, she discretely tipped her head. Miranda couldn't look away from those warm brown eyes. "Andrea shot Irv," she whispered.
"Excuse me? Please speak up." Attorney Wilson dropped her arms down and took a step toward Miranda.
Miranda pulled her gaze back to the attorney. "Andrea shot Irv," she said firmly.
"Why didn't you stop Andrea from shooting Mr. Ravitz?" The attorney crossed her arms and stared at Miranda.
"It happened so fast." Miranda wasn't fooled by the attorney's compassionate expression. The hard eyes gave Attorney Wilson away. "I was horrified by what Irv had said, and I was shocked when I heard the gunshots. When I looked down, Andrea was still pointing the gun at the carpet, my hand on her arm. She said I had shoved her arm down as she took a second shot. I was not able to stop what happened that night."
Attorney Wilson nodded her head as if considering Miranda's statement. "Where did the firearm come from?" she asked.
"It was in my right-hand desk drawer," Miranda answered.
"Why did you have it?" The attorney asked as she moved back toward the prosecution's table.
"I received several deaths threats and was advised to take steps to protect myself." Miranda folded her hands together in her lap.
"Why was Ms. Sachs aware that the gun was in the drawer?" Attorney Wilson asked.
"As first assistant, Andrea is aware of everything in my office." Miranda sniffed. "Besides, she made sure that all the proper licenses and permits were obtained before the weapon was purchased. She also made arrangements for me to receive training from a licensed firearm instructor."
Attorney Wilson glided around the table to her seat. "Nothing further, your honor."
Attorney Morris stood to cross-examine Miranda. As he came around the table, he buttoned his suit coat. "How familiar is Andy with your children?"
"Very," Miranda answered.
"Did she interact with them often?" Attorney Morris asked.
"Yes. She would talk to them for a few minutes most evenings when she delivered the Book. She has also taken them to the zoo and museum. On occasion she has stayed with them at the townhouse when I had other obligations," Miranda said firmly.
"So you trust Andy to protect your children when you are not there to do so?"
"Yes, I trust her with their lives." Miranda barely kept from adding that she trusted Andrea with her own life.
"After the events of that night, would you still trust Andy with your children?" Attorney Morris crossed his arms.
Miranda pursed her lips and glared at the attorney. "The only reason Andrea Sachs is sitting in this courtroom today is because she saved my daughters' lives that night. Of course, I trust her."
Attorney Morris nodded and moved behind the defense table. "No further questions, your Honor."
Miranda stalked back to her seat when she was dismissed. As she passed the defense table, Andrea smiled at her. It wasn't one of Andrea's light-up-the-room-smiles, but Miranda would cherish its memory. Nigel stood, allowing her to move past him and take her seat. When she sat down, he briefly squeezed her hand.
For the next few days, the prosecution laid out its evidence methodically, using the evidence, exhibits, and witnesses to prove Andrea had killed Irv. Once the prosecution rested its case, it was finally time for the defense to present its case. Miranda had been assured that Roger Morris was the best defense attorney money could buy in Manhattan.
"The defense calls Michael Carlini to the stand," said Attorney Morris.
Miranda watched as a middle-aged man was escorted to the witness stand and sworn in. The large man unbuttoned his suit coat and settled in the chair.
"Mr. Carlini, please state your full name, your current residence, and profession," Attorney Morris directed as he walked around the defense table and moved closer to the witness stand.
"Michael James Carlini. I am currently in federal custody, and, therefore, retired from my profession." The man stared at the attorney impassively.
"Before you were taken into custody, what were some of the duties for your profession?" Attorney Morris asked as he stood to one side of the witness stand and clasped his hands behind his back.
"It depended on what was needed. In the past I have persuaded people to do or not do something. On occasion I have retrieved objects for my clients." Michael Carlini continued to project an air of composure.
"Was one of your clients Irv Ravitz?" Attorney Morris asked as he moved over to the short wall enclosing the jury box.
"Yes," answered Mr. Carlini.
"Please describe the last job Mr. Ravitz discussed with you." Crossing his arms, the attorney seemed relaxed as Mr. Carlini explained how Irv Ravitz planned to force Miranda out of her position as editor by offering her one more opportunity to step down. If she refused, Carlini would kidnap and rape the Priestly twins. Mr. Carlini described waiting at a bar a couple blocks from the Elias-Clarke building. If he was to proceed with the plan, Irv would have met him and given him a substantial sum of money. It wasn't until the next day that he learned Irv had been shot that night.
Miranda shuddered as she listened to the man recount Irv's plans as if he were relating the weather, his voice inflectionless. Her head pounded from clenching her jaw so tightly. Even though Andrea's attorney had told her about this witness' expected testimony, hearing it stated so plainly drove home the full horror of Irv's plot.
"How sure were you that you would be getting the job?" Attorney Morris straightened up and stepped toward the witness box.
"Irv said he was 90 percent sure that Miranda would turn him down. I had everything in place and was ready to go. I was surprised when Irv didn't show." Mr. Carlini ran his hand down his tie.
"What was your plan?" Attorney Morris took another step closer and stared at the witness.
"The twins' father has a drug problem. Irv gave me the name of the guy's dealer and some coke. I planned to show up at his place with a gift from the dealer. Irv said it would incapacitate the guy. Then I would take the girls." At this admission, Mr. Carlini frowned and looked faintly uncomfortable.
Miranda pursed her lips as she thought about her ex-husband's unwitting involvement in the plan. Never again, she thought. She was taking steps to sue her ex-husband for full custody of the twins. Jeremy would only be able to see the girls during supervised visits. She had also taken steps to name Nigel as the girls' guardian should anything ever happen to her. Miranda would see that the girls' father never endangered their safety again.
"So that night, you fully expected Mr. Ravitz to show up and pay you to kidnap the twins," said Attorney Morris.
"Yes." Carlini stared at his hands clasped in his lap.
"Nothing further, Your Honor." The attorney returned to his seat behind the defense table.
When it was the prosecution's turn, Miranda wasn't surprised that the assistant district attorney didn't spend much time cross-examining Mr. Carlini. Her questions stressed that the kidnapping did not occur and that Mr. Carlini was arrested later on charges unrelated to anything pertaining to Irving Ravitz.
Mr. Carlini was dismissed and the defense called Andrea Sachs.
Miranda watched as Andrea moved to the witness stand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. She wondered if Andrea's feelings were similar to her own regarding swearing on a religious symbol.
After she was sworn in and asked to formally identify herself, Attorney Morris stepped in front of the defense table. He half sat, half relaxed as he crossed his arms. "What is your relationship with Miranda Priestly?" he asked.
Andrea took a deep breath and blew it out. "She was my employer, and she is my friend." Miranda felt her expression soften as she heard Andrea echo her previous statements.
"What is your relationship with her daughters?" Attorney Morris asked.
"They're my friends," she responded.
"Are you close friends?"
"I think so." Andrea nodded.
"Do you interact with them often?"
"Yes. I've watched them when the nanny wasn't available and Miranda had a function to attend. Once in a while, I helped with homework. We've gone to the zoo a couple of times." Andrea smiled and Miranda hoped it was due to happy memories.
"Do you care for them?" Attorney Morris stood and moved closer to the witness box.
"I love them very much," Andrea said. Miranda swallowed the lump in her throat when she saw Andrea wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.
"Tell me about the night in question." Attorney Morris moved back to the defense table.
Miranda and Andrea's gaze met briefly before Andrea turned her attention back to her attorney. "Miranda and I were working late. I was working on Miranda's expense report while Miranda went over the Book."
Miranda watched as Andrea closed her eyes. "I had a question about one of the receipts, so I went into Miranda's office. Miranda was seated at her desk, and I was standing on her right when Mr. Ravitz stormed in.
"He started yelling at Miranda as soon as he stepped into the office. He wanted her out of her job. Miranda refused to resign." Andrea took a deep breath before continuing. "Mr. Ravitz just stared at Miranda. He seemed almost happy with her refusal. He said fine. It would be Miranda's fault when her daughters were kidnapped and raped. He said he knew people and that if Miranda didn't leave Runway, what happened to her daughters would be her fault." Andrea finished the last statement in a near whisper with her head bowed.
"And then?" Attorney Morris stepped directly in front of Andrea.
"He had threatened the girls." Andrea shivered. "I realized he was serious about hurting Miranda's girls." Andrea raised her head. "I just reacted. I wanted him to stop." Tears ran down Andrea's cheeks.
The attorney waited for Andrea to pull herself together. "How did you stop him, Andy?" he asked gently.
Andrea wiped her tears and said, "Miranda had a handgun in the top right-hand drawer of her desk. I don't remember opening the drawer or pulling the trigger. I remember looking down at the gun in my hand. Miranda's hand was on my arm, and the gun was pointed to the right of the desk. She pushed my arm when I fired the second shot."
Attorney Morris nodded and walked back toward the table. He turned and leaned against the table again. "Why did you react the way you did when you heard Mr. Ravitz's threats?"
Andrea took a shaky breath. "It has been my experience that Mr. Ravitz did not make idle threats."
"What experience?" The attorney asked, crossing his arms as he waited for Andrea to answer.
"A couple of months before that night, Mr. Ravitz tried to rape me," Andrea said.
Miranda stifled a gasp but felt all color drain from her face. Roger did not disclose this fact during any of their meetings. She ruthlessly worked to tamp down her emotions.
"You say tried. What happened?" Attorney Morris prompted.
"I was working late, waiting for the Book. I took some paperwork down to accounting on the tenth floor." Andrea ran her hand through her hair. "Mr. Ravitz grabbed me and pushed me against the wall. As he tore my dress, he told me that he was going to enjoy Miranda's favorite." Miranda could tell that although Andrea was clasping her hands together tightly, they were still shaking. "A security guard pulled him off of me. Mr. Ravitz told him he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life. Then he turned back to me and told me that the next time he wouldn't be stopped."
"What did you do? Did you report the attack?" the attorney asked as he moved behind the table.
"The next day I went to human resources and told them what happened. They said that it was a case of my word against his. I told them the security guard was a witness." Miranda's stomach clenched as she watched Andrea raise a shaky hand to wipe her eyes. "They said he had been fired that morning. So he wasn't available."
"Was that the end of it?" The attorney asked as he gathered a stack of papers from the table.
"No, I went to the police. They said they would look into it." Andrea chewed her lip. "A couple of weeks later I was told that the investigation was closed. The security guard had moved, and he couldn't be located."
Miranda glanced at Nigel. He seemed to share her horror at the news of what Andrea had gone through. She didn't realize that she was clutching the bottom of the bench until Nigel pried her fingers loose and gripped her right hand in his own. Nigel leaned forward slightly to see how Serena and Emily took the news. When Miranda followed his gaze, she saw them wiping tears from their eyes.
Attorney Morris soon indicated he was finished with questioning Andrea.
The assistant district attorney began her cross examination. "Ms. Sachs, were you aware that Mr. Ravitz had definite plans to carry out his threats?" The prosecuting attorney stood and came around the table.
"No, ma'am. I only had my belief that Mr. Ravitz did not make idle threats." Andrea leaned forward slightly.
"Surely you or Ms. Priestly could have called the police and reported Mr. Ravitz's threats. Isn't that true?" Attorney Wilson waved vaguely toward Miranda as she asked the question.
"I didn't think. I just reacted. He was going to hurt the girls." Andrea paused and took a deep breath. "I had played the he-said, she-said game with the police before," she whispered.
"No further questions, Your Honor," Attorney Wilson said as she moved to take her seat. Miranda glared at the attorney. She wanted so badly to wipe the smug expression from the attorney's face that her hand itched.
Andrea was excused from the witness stand. The defense rested their case, and court was adjourned until the next day when closing arguments would begin.
One year, seven months after the incident
Nigel paced along the curb in front of the courthouse while he waited for Miranda. Based on Roy's earlier text, he expected her any minute now. He was nervous and apprehensive about the day to come. Today the judge would hand down his verdict on Andy's guilt or innocence. As he ran his hand over his bald head he looked around. Emily and Serena were waiting over by the steps, holding hands and talking quietly. There was a crowd of Runway employees gathering to one side, their numbers slowly growing. No one was heading inside just yet. It appeared that everyone was waiting for Miranda to lead them in like she did unknowingly the first day of the trial. When employees came to him over a month ago asking to attend the proceedings, he had been touched by their concern. Each person promised that their work would get done and all deadlines would be met. He knew Miranda had been stunned by the gesture.
The silver Mercedes smoothly pulled up to the curb, and Nigel reached down to open the rear door. Miranda slipped on her sunglasses before taking his offered hand and stepping out of the car. Nigel closed the door and tapped the roof to let Roy know he was clear. He fell in step behind Miranda and admired her regal air as she strode across the sidewalk and up the steps. Emily and Serena flanked him as he followed Miranda into the building. A brief glance over his shoulder confirmed that the Runway troops followed in their wake.
Once in the courtroom, Nigel, Miranda, Emily, and Serena took the same seats they had occupied since the beginning of the trial. The Runway contingent filled in the rest. It wasn't long before Andy was escorted in and led to the defense table. Nigel briefly admired the suit he dressed her in today. The dark suit and white blouse gave the young woman a serious, no-nonsense look. Soon everyone was standing as the judge entered the courtroom. After the formalities were observed, the judge called for Andy to stand.
As Andy stood to hear the verdict, Nigel slipped his arm around Miranda's shoulder. He wasn't as hopeful as Miranda and wanted to be prepared. The judge's furrowed brow and serious expression led him to expect the worst.
The judge stared at Andy a moment before pronouncing sentence. "Based on the testimony and evidence provided, there is no question that Mr. Irving Ravitz was a bad man. However, that does not mean an individual may take the law into her own hands. Therefore, I find Andrea Sachs guilty of manslaughter in the second degree."
Nigel felt Miranda shudder as he pulled her into his chest. The judge paused, waiting for the spectator's muted gasps to quiet. "Sentencing will take place in one month. Court is adjourned." The judge banged his gavel before rising and leaving the courtroom.
Nigel felt sick as he watched the bailiff cuff and shackle Andy. All he could do was gently pat Miranda's back for comfort. Her face was buried in his chest; her shoulders' silent shaking was evidence of her heartbreak. He looked over and saw Emily and Serena clinging to each other.
Before Andy was led away, he met her gaze. When she tilted her head slightly, he nodded. Without words he promised to look after Miranda.
Nigel felt Miranda raise her head and pull back. He watched her reach into her bag and retrieve her sunglasses. Once they were firmly in place she stood, and the Runway contingent followed suit. As Nigel escorted Miranda to the courtroom door, the couple was surrounded. It was as if he and Miranda were in a Runway bubble. The human mass moved through the hallways, down the steps, and outside the courthouse. The bubble made it impossible for the dozens of reporters to get close enough to ask questions. They continued to travel down the concrete steps toward the Mercedes where Roy stood at attention, holding the passenger door open. As the Runway bubble got closer, people split to one side or the other. A direct path was opened so that Miranda could enter the car unimpeded. Nigel handed her in and slipped around the car to enter on the other side. He hoped the pride he felt for his friends and colleagues was evident in the look he gave them over the roof of the car. With only a brief pause he joined Miranda in the back seat.
"I had hoped that the verdict would have gone the other way," Miranda whispered as the car smoothly pulled into traffic.
"I know." Nigel took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Andy knew. She told me what to expect when I saw her the other day."
Nigel watched Miranda slip off her sunglasses. "I wish." Miranda sighed.
He reached over and took her hand. "Andy will be fine. You and the girls are safe, and that has always been her only concern."
Miranda nodded slowly and slipped on her sunglasses. Nigel could only offer silent comfort when she turned her face toward the window.
One year, eight months after the incident
Once again Andy was wearing another new suit courtesy of Nigel. This was Andy's favorite so far. It was a dark charcoal gray and contained a subtle pink pinstripe. A fuchsia silk shirt and black Christian Louboutin two-inch heels completed the outfit. Andy sat at the defense table waiting for the judge to convene court. She didn't dare look over her shoulder at the visitor gallery. The brief glimpse she allowed herself when she came in confirmed that her Runway friends filled the seats. She knew she would have a hard time keeping a lid on her emotions today. There was no way she could keep from breaking down if she saw sorrow or pity in any of their eyes.
When the judge entered, everyone stood, and Andy swallowed, hoping the nausea she felt wouldn't cause her to embarrass herself. She gratefully sank into her chair once the judge told everyone to be seated.
The judge reviewed the documents in front of him. After a few minutes he called for Andy to stand. "Ms. Sachs, do you have anything to say to the court before I pronounce sentencing."
Andy prayed her shaking wasn't visible as she straightened her back and looked the judge in the eye. "Yes, your Honor. I'm sorry for what happened that night and the pain this has caused Mr. Ravitz's family. I take full responsibility for my actions." Andy briefly bit her lip as she waited for the judge's response.
"Andrea Sachs, you have been found guilty of manslaughter in the second degree. In accordance with New York Penal Code Section 125-15, I hereby sentence you to three years in an institution to be determined by the Department of Corrections, with credit for time served." The judge adjourned court and exited the courtroom.
The sentence was less than what Andy had expected, but it still felt like a punch in the gut. To keep her balance, she briefly leaned against the defense table. As she waited for the cuffs and shackles, she turned to stare into Miranda's eyes. Andy got the impression that only Miranda's grip on Nigel's arm kept her standing.
When the bailiffs signaled that they were ready, Andy gave Miranda a brief smile. "I'll be okay. Take care of her, Nigel." She turned and shuffled out the side door with her escort. She didn't let her tears fall until she was in the hallway and the courtroom door was closed. Her only comfort was the mantra running through her mind: they're safe, they're safe.
One year, ten months after the incident
Dear Serena,
Thank you for the books and magazines. I really appreciated receiving them.
I'm settling into my new space just fine. I've even started making friends. A couple of the girls have asked me to help them improve their reading skills. We are using copies of Runway for the lessons.
I know you said you would visit, but please don't. The drive up from the city is too long and boring. Besides, you and Emily have little enough time away from Runway. Don't waste it on me. I would rather have your letters to read whenever I have some down time.
I need to go. Things to do. People to see. Take care of yourself along with Emily, Nigel, and Miranda.
Love,
Andy
One year, eleven months after the incident
Dear Nigel,
Thank you for all those copies of Runway. The girls love them. I'm tutoring six girls, and Runway makes an excellent textbook.
I'm glad things are going so well in the office. Emily wrote me about her promotion. She's so excited. I can't wait to see her achieve her dreams.
I'm sorry you disagree with me about visiting. You would spend the entire day in the car for a thirty-minute chat. I would much rather get your letters filled with juicy gossip.
Take care of yourself, and keep an eye on Serena and Emily. Watch over Miranda and the twins. Keep them safe.
Love,
Andy
Two years after the incident
Andy,
You don't need to remind me that the mail you receive may be reviewed before you see it. I am well aware that untold numbers of people have been informed that Serena wants to get pregnant. Bloody hell, all of Runway and half of New York City are conscious of that little fact. An additional guard or two hardly matters.
Serena is investigating fertility clinics, obstetricians, and birthing plans. She is combing catalogs and internet sites, looking at baby furniture and maternity clothes. The woman is obsessed. Last week she stopped a woman with a toddler in front of the building and started an in-depth conversation on the merits of various pre-school programs. They talked for our entire lunch break. I just stood there, trying to appear interested.
Frankly, I'm scared spitless. I told Serena I did not know the first thing about children in general or babies in particular. She bought me a book. A BOOK! She said I would be just fine. She's one to talk. She has three sisters, two brothers, and a constantly increasing number of nieces and nephews.
Bloody hell, if I didn't love her so much. Who am I kidding? My wife wants a baby. We shall have a baby.
Serena has decided that she is waiting until you come home before we start the process. She thinks you will be able to keep me from freaking out. Her words. You can do anything, but I am almost sure that will be beyond your powers.
Anyway, we would like you to be the godmother to our child. Serena plans to ask Miranda to be the godmother, also. Nigel has accepted our request to be godfather. We believe our child will be well taken care of by the three of you. I hope you accept. If you don't, I will throw that bloody book at you. It's huge. It will hurt.
Take care of yourself. You have to come home safely and help me maintain my sanity during my wife's pregnancy.
Emily
Two years, two months after the incident
Six,
I hope you are well. I'm sending a separate package with the books you have requested. If you need anything else, let me know.
Runway is fabulous as usual. The plans for Men's Runway are progressing. Emily and I have been slaving away. I believe Miranda will be proud of our efforts (even if she does not say so).
By now, you should be reading some interesting news about Elias-Clarke. Miranda was able to force the last of the old guard off the E-C board. Between her personal shares and the proxies she was able to gather, they didn't stand a chance.
The changes implemented by Miranda have already helped the company stock to rebound. The women identified in Irv's files have been contacted, and the last of the settlements finalized. The company is stronger than it has been in years.
Take care of yourself. We all miss you terribly.
Nigel
Two years, six months after the incident
Andrea,
Roger has informed me that you will be released from prison in one week. You have served a majority of your sentence, and based on your good behavior, you are entitled to an early release.
The car will pick you up at the gate.
We have much to discuss. I look forward to seeing you.
Miranda
xxx
Andy stepped outside and immediately raised a hand to shade her eyes from the bright sunshine. The heavy metal door snicked closed behind her. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision as she clutched a plastic bag with her meager personal possessions and looked for a familiar black town car or silver Mercedes. Instead at the curb a deep blue metallic BMW sparkled in the sunlight. Andy took two steps toward the car when she heard the driver's side door open. Her breath caught at the sight of Miranda stepping out. She drank in the picture of perfectly coifed white hair and brilliant blue eyes. Frozen in place, she could only stare as Miranda came around the front of the car and glided toward her.
"Miranda," Andy whispered. She slowly raised her hand and ghosted her fingers over the woman's cheek. "I'm dreaming," she murmured.
"No, darling. Not a dream." Miranda stepped closer and pulled Andy into her arms. "I've missed you so." Andy felt Miranda's arms tightened around her as she tucked her face into Miranda's neck. She promised herself she would not cry when she was reunited with Miranda. It was going to be a hard promise to keep.
She started to relax, but it suddenly dawned on her where she was. Jumping back, she frantically looked around. "I'm so sorry, Miranda. I wasn't thinking."
Smirking, Miranda grabbed Andy's hand and pulled her toward the car. "It's fine, Andrea. Nothing Page Six publishes can hurt me." Miranda opened the front passenger door and helped Andy into the car before plucking the plastic bag with Andy's personal possessions from her hands. Andy heard the trunk door close before she watched Miranda slip into the driver's seat and turn to her fully, her eyes traveling over Andy slowly. She remained still under the scrutiny, thankful that Nigel had sent her the True Religion jeans, which hugged her diminished curves, and the red wrap blouse, which accentuated her assets. She had slipped down to a size two during her time incarcerated. He had also provided low-heeled boots, a thoughtful gift since she was out of practice with wearing heels.
"Andrea," Miranda whispered.
Andy sank back into the leather and stared at Miranda, loving how Miranda said her name. She had missed Miranda terribly. Since the last court hearing, she had only seen Miranda through a series of photographs taken at various events or provided by the twins. Although entirely photogenic, Miranda in three dimensions was enough to render her stupid. Andy finally gave in and reached across the seat to grasp Miranda's hand.
"Are you hungry?" Miranda lifted Andy's hand and kissed it.
"Starved," Andy whispered.
"I'm not surprised. Didn't they feed you in there?" Miranda squeezed Andy's hand before releasing it and starting the car.
"I was too excited to eat breakfast, and I didn't want to wait for lunch." Andy reached behind her and pulled the seatbelt across her body to secure it. She loosened it enough so that she could sit sideways and continue to watch Miranda.
"What would you like to eat? I'll stop at the first likely restaurant." Miranda buckled her own seatbelt before smoothly steering away from the curb.
Andy took a deep breath and sighed. "A burger. I would love a really great burger."
Miranda glanced at her passenger and smiled. "A burger it is then. Maybe, if you are amenable, we could stop later for ice cream. On the way here I saw a billboard advertising the best ice cream in western New York." Miranda winked playfully.
"Excellent. If they have a billboard, it must be true." Andy's smile broadened when she caught the wink. She could hardly believe that she was finally free and with Miranda. The nightmare that started thirty months ago was finally winding down. Andy watched as Miranda drove them away from the prison grounds and pulled onto the state highway.
After a few miles thoughts of the twins interrupted her study of Miranda's profile. "How are the girls? In fact where are the girls?"
Miranda checked her mirrors and signaled a lane change before answering. "The girls are fine. They are visiting their grandmother and will return tomorrow afternoon. They are looking forward to seeing you."
Andy was also looking forward to seeing them. They had been faithful letter writers while she was away. "How is Jeremy? The girls told me about the last incident."
Miranda gave a disgusted huff. "He's checked into rehab again. Did the girls tell you they refuse to see him until he is clean?"
"Yeah," Andy answered and reached out to rub Miranda's shoulder. "I'm sorry they've had to deal with that."
Miranda shook her head. "They are strong girls and realize their father's problems have nothing to do with them." Miranda briefly took her eyes off the road to glance at Andy. "Thank you," she whispered.
Andy just dipped her head and continued to stroke Miranda's shoulder.
The next few miles passed in comfortable silence as Miranda drove and Andy watched for any restaurants advertising burgers. "Have you thought about what you want to do now?"
Andy shrugged and stared down at the leather seat.
Miranda concentrated on the road ahead. "You don't have to do anything you know. The girls decided that you are moving in with us. They're looking forward to redecorating one of the guest rooms for you."
"Miranda," Andy said softly.
"No, Andrea." Miranda gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. "You are staying at the townhouse. I've missed you. You are back now, and I am not letting you go." Miranda took a deep breath before continuing. "Unless you have changed your mind. If your feelings have changed?"
Andy's grabbed Miranda's arm. "No, no. I love you, Miranda. I loved you three years ago, and I love you now." She shrugged as she struggled to explain. "I don't want to cause you any trouble. You said earlier that Page Six couldn't hurt you. Won't having me in your home raise questions?"
The tension drained from Miranda's shoulders. "Silly girl. I don't care what others think. You saved me and my girls. I owe you so much. Besides, most of New York City believes we were having an affair before the incident."
"What?!" Shocked, Andy straightened then winced when the seatbelt pulled against her neck. "But we didn't, I, you, we, we," she could only sputter in outrage.
"I know," Miranda smirked. "We barely figured out our feelings and decided to wait. We wanted to but didn't, and everyone thinks we did."
"Damn it all to hell," Andy groused.
"Andrea, will you please move in with me and my girls?" Miranda glanced at Andy and gave a sly smile. "We can pick up where we left off. I want to build a relationship with you."
"Yes, Miranda. Thank you. I want that, too." Andy returned her hand to Miranda's shoulder.
Miranda cleared her throat. "Before the incident, you wanted to be a writer. If that is something you still wish to pursue, I will help you. You can take your time making a decision."
Andy dropped her hand and ran her finger along the seam of the leather seat. She stared down at the seat before speaking. "I actually thought of doing something to help other women leaving prison." She paused to chew her lip before returning her gaze to Miranda. "There are several programs to help former inmates, but the need outstrips the resources. I'd like to see if I can help set up more programs or at least let women know what's available."
Miranda patted Andy's hand. "That is a wonderful idea. Perhaps setting up a foundation would be a starting point."
"Thank you." Andy glanced out the windshield when Miranda signaled another turn.
"If that billboard is to be believed, there is a restaurant ahead that serves awesome burgers and exceptional steaks." Miranda smirked as she slowed to make her turn.
"Fantastic. First an awesome burger and then ice cream. This is turning out to be a pretty great day." Andy shifted in her seat to face forward.
"Oh, Andrea. This is just the beginning." Miranda smiled as she pulled into the parking lot.
"I know. I can hardly wait." Andy smiled as she rested her hand on Miranda's thigh.
Five years after the incident
Miranda opened the door and smiled. "Nigel, come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?" She stepped back so that Nigel could enter.
"A little bird told me that you were bored." Nigel handed a familiar blue porcelain flagon to Miranda before shrugging off his coat and hanging it in the closet.
"Andrea." Miranda chuckled and handed the bottle back. "I would have survived. She'll be back late tonight or early tomorrow morning. Besides, boredom doesn't merit such a fine bottle of scotch whisky."
Nigel linked arms with Miranda as they ambled down the hall to the sitting room. "The bottle is to commemorate the success of Runway and Men's Runway. I thought a little celebration was in order."
Miranda waved Nigel toward the loveseat while she retrieved glasses from the top of the liquor cabinet. She set the heavy crystal tumblers on the coffee table before making herself comfortable in the wingback chair. Miranda gave Nigel a slight nod when she accepted the filled glass from her friend.
"How are the girls? Are they enjoying their senior year?" Nigel took a sip and closed his eyes as he savored the smooth taste. Miranda took a delicate sip and relaxed in her chair as she watched Nigel open his eyes.
"Yes, they're supposedly working on a senior project at a friend's house." Miranda smiled and gazed down at the glass cradled in her hands. "I think it was just an excuse to listen to loud music and eat junk food."
Nigel chuckled. "You're probably right. Have they decided on colleges yet?" he asked while gazing at Miranda over the top of his glass.
"They've been accepted at several schools. Cassidy would like to go to Yale or Northwestern. Caroline waffles between UC Irvine and Boston University." Miranda grimaced. "I'm still hoping they decide on Columbia. It has a strong English department for Caroline and the School of the Arts would suit Cassidy."
"Plus Columbia is so much closer than all the others." Nigel said with an irritating smirk. "Think of all the money you could save on room and board."
Miranda sniffed. "You're as bad as Andrea." She looked up at the series of pictures decorating the mantel. One of her favorites was taken just a few months ago. It showed Andrea with her arms around Miranda's seventeen-year-old daughters. They were all laughing at the camera. Miranda remembered they had gone to Central Park just to walk around. She had taken Cassidy's camera and captured the moment.
Nigel followed Miranda's gaze to the display on the mantle. "You have a beautiful family, Miranda."
Miranda hummed in agreement. "It's all thanks to Andrea. She saved us all."
"She is a remarkable woman," Nigel agreed.
"More than you know." Miranda sighed. "More than you know." Her thoughts drifted to what might have been. "I never told you about that night," she whispered as she continued to stare at the pictures.
Nigel turned his attention to the woman. "No, you didn't." He tilted his head as he considered his friend.
"I couldn't." Miranda swallowed the last of the fine scotch whiskey in her glass. "Andrea said it would be better if I never spoke of it again."
Nigel raised an eyebrow and waited. He leaned forward and poured a bit more into his glass and Miranda's when she slid it across the coffee table.
"I've abided by her wishes for five years. I think it is time for someone else to know the truth of that night." Miranda pursed her lips as she picked up her glass and leaned back in her chair.
"The girls were with their father, so I was in no hurry to go home to an empty house. I was working on the Book in my office, and Andrea was at her desk working on my monthly expense account when Irv barged in." Miranda reached up and fiddled with her necklace.
"But?" Nigel sat up straight. Miranda could tell he was shocked by that detail. "Andy said she was in your office. She was standing right next to you."
Miranda sighed and took a small sip. "That was only the first lie told that night."
The night of the incident
It was close to 10:00 p.m. and Miranda and Andrea were working late. Since Miranda's twin daughters were with their father this week and the townhouse was empty, Miranda decided to review the Book at the office. Andrea was working to reconcile her monthly expense report.
Truth be told, Miranda enjoyed the quiet, late nights. Andrea's competent presence was comforting. One day soon they needed to sit down and have that talk they had been putting off for the last few months. Andrea needed to move on, preferably to another publication. She would miss seeing Andrea sitting in the first assistant's desk, but it was time. Besides, nothing could develop between the two of them until then.
Miranda sighed and pulled her focus back to the Book as she wrote another scathing comment on a post-it note. Before she could turn the page, the late-night silence was broken by heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Irv Ravitz barreled into her office in an obvious foul temper.
"What is the meaning of this?" Miranda stood, glaring at the chairman of the Elias-Clarke Publishing board of directors.
"I'm tired of this shit, Miranda. You've overrun your last budget. I want you gone," Irv growled. "Leave or you will regret staying."
"You're insane. There is no way I'm leaving. Runway is successful because of me. I'm not going anywhere." Miranda leaned forward with her hands braced on the desktop.
"I am giving you one last chance to resign. Just walk away and nothing will happen to you or your devil spawn," Irv snarled.
"You are insane! How dare you threaten my girls!" Miranda seethed with a white-hot fury.
"Fine." Irv said coldly before he raised his voice. "It'll be your fault when your daughters are kidnapped and raped. I know people, Miranda, and I'm going to enjoy hearing the full report of how they were raped over and over again. When they cry for their mommy, they'll be told that you could have stopped it, but you didn't. It will be your fault, and they will hate you for the rest of their lives because you wouldn't protect them."
Miranda could not stand hearing the depraved threats spewing from Irv's mouth. She always thought the term "seeing red" was just an exaggeration. However, at that moment all she could see was Irv's face through a red haze. Then it was almost as if she stood outside of her body as she watched her hand open the desk drawer and withdraw the revolver. Without conscious thought, her hand pointed the gun at Irv's chest, and her finger tightened on the trigger. In slow motion she watched Irv's expression morph into shock as he collapsed to the floor. Horrified, Miranda stared at the spreading red stain on Irv's chest. For a few seconds it almost looked like a flower opening its red petals.
Buzzing filled her ears, and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Faintly, someone was calling her name. Miranda ignored the voice and kept repeating, "What have I done? My God, what have I done?"
She heard the faint voice again. This time it said, "Miranda, give me the gun." Another hand removed the gun from hers. Bang! The shot shocked her back to her senses.
"Andrea?" Confused, Miranda stared at Andrea as if seeing her for the first time. In a rush she tried to explain. "I didn't mean to hurt him. He threatened the girls. I just wanted him to stop. What have I done?"
Andrea carefully set the gun on the desk. "Miranda, look at me."
Miranda couldn't tear her eyes away from the horror in front of her desk.
"Miranda, look at me!" Andrea said forcefully, grabbing Miranda's shoulder and giving her a gentle shake. "Listen to me, Miranda. I shot Irv Ravitz. I shot Irv."
Miranda's mouth dropped open. "No, Andrea. No," she whispered, horrified.
Andrea placed two fingers over Miranda's lips. "Listen to me. The girls need you. I shot Irv."
Miranda started shaking her head, and Andrea's fingers slipped from her lips. "You can't say that, Andrea. No, you can't." Miranda grabbed Andrea's hand and stared into her warm brown eyes.
"Miranda, the girls need you. Jeremy is an idiot. Do you really want him to raise the twins? Think of Caroline and Cassidy," Andrea whispered fervently as she squeezed Miranda's hand. "Don't let Irv win. He wanted to take them away from you. Don't let him." Miranda stared into Andrea's eyes, noting her determination but unwilling to accept what Andrea was offering.
Wrenching her shoulder from Andrea's grip, Miranda felt her knees buckle and caught herself on the desk. She struggled to remain upright and placed her hands on her desktop to support herself. Taking several deep breaths, Miranda bowed her head. "You can't do this. It isn't some job requirement," Miranda growled.
"No, this is a heart requirement!" Andrea roared as she slammed her hand over her heart. "We've danced around these feeling long enough. I love you, Miranda. I refuse to let this bastard ruin you."
Turning her head, Miranda stared at Andrea in disbelief. How could this girl want to take on this burden? Didn't Andrea understand that she wasn't worth it? She could never be worthy of this brave, foolhardy young woman's love.
"This is happening, Miranda, and we don't have much time." Andrea reached over and gently brushed a lock of hair behind Miranda's ear.
Miranda took a deep breath and let it out. She did this twice more, and she felt a blanket of calm settle over her. Andrea was right. Her girls needed her. Irv would win and everything she had done to protect her girls would be for naught.
"Repeat after me. Andrea shot Irv." Miranda heard the steel in Andrea's voice. She pushed herself up, but she kept her head bowed. She clutched a fist to her chest, not wanting to repeat Andrea's words. Can I do this? Can I allow Andrea to take the blame? This is my fault. My girls. I can't lose my girls.
Andrea was relentless. "Miranda, you are a lousy liar. You have to believe this. Repeat after me. Andrea shot Irv! Damn it, think of the girls!"
Miranda swallowed and straightened her shoulders. She pulled her dragon lady persona from thin air and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Andrea shot Irv." Although she only whispered the words, Miranda felt as if they reverberated throughout the office.
"We are going to tell the police that I was standing next to you when Irv barged in. You stood when he started shouting. You were shocked when I shot him. You shoved my hand away before I fired again." Miranda listened closely, absorbing the fabrication, memorizing the lie, and locking away the truth. "Now tell me what happened."
Miranda repeated the story twice more before Andrea was satisfied. She was surprised when she looked at the clock on her desk to see that only thirty minutes had passed since Irv had stormed into the office.
"Call 9-1-1 and security." Andrea said, cupping Miranda's cheek. She was not surprised to feel Andrea's thumb gently swipe away the single tear that escaped without permission. She could do little else but cry as Andrea continued, "Then you need to call Jeremy."
Present
Miranda leaned forward and poured more whiskey into her glass. She waited for Nigel's reaction. She waited for the censure, the accusations, the slurs, and the condemnation. Miranda wanted someone else to know the kind of woman Andrea truly was. Conversely, someone needed to know the kind of woman she was. It did not matter that billions were unaware of Andrea's strength and nobility as long as one other person knew the truth.
Nigel looked dumbfounded by the revelations. He stared at Miranda for several moments before closing his jaw with a click. Draining his glass with one long pull, he reached for the bottle.
Miranda slid it closer and continued to wait as Nigel poured a good three fingers worth into his glass. She frowned as Nigel tossed back half his drink. The whiskey was too fine to be consumed as if it were soda. She held her tongue, though, and continued to wait.
"She never wavered. That's why she didn't want you to visit. She knew it would tear you up," he whispered in disbelief.
"I tried to confess to Robert, but Andrea beat me to it." Miranda bowed her head. "She told Robert my guilt would make me say things that were not true. Robert stopped me before I was able to say two words. He told me I would only make things worse for Andrea. The prosecutor might infer that Andrea and I were in it together. I could possibly cause the charges to go from manslaughter to murder." Miranda paused to clear her throat. "May God forgive me. I didn't pursue the matter any further. I said exactly what Andrea told me to say." Miranda's voice broke with the admission.
"She loves you, Miranda." Nigel gave her a gentle smile.
"Can you forgive me?" Miranda stared into her drink. She had yet to forgive herself and doubted if she ever would.
"Forgive you? Of course." Nigel said in an incredulous voice. "I know exactly how persuasive Six can be." He smirked and raised his glass. "You never had a chance."
Before they could continue, the front door slammed, and they heard, "Honey, I'm home."
"Andrea's home," she whispered before hurrying out of the room. Miranda paused in the hallway just outside the sitting room. Andrea had dropped her overnight bag and was unwinding the scarf from her neck. Then she looked up, locking eyes with Miranda, and breaking into her megawatt smile. Before Miranda realized she had even started moving again, her arms were wrapped around Andrea's neck and they were kissing as if they had been separated for months instead of two days.
When they finally came up for air, Miranda took a half-step back and helped Andrea remove her coat. "I'm so glad you're home," she whispered. She opened the closet and hung up the coat as Andrea moved her bag over by the staircase.
"Me too. My meeting ended before noon, so I was able to catch an earlier flight." Andrea grabbed Miranda's hand and pulled her in for another kiss.
When she got the chance, Miranda murmured, "Nigel's in the sitting room."
Andrea sighed and dropped one last peck on Miranda's lips. "Okay. But later," Andrea wiggled her eyebrows and Miranda chuckled at the absurd expression.
Grabbing Andrea's hand, Miranda led her to the sitting room. Nigel was standing, waiting for the couple. When Andrea stepped forward to greet him, Nigel swooped in and gathered her into a full-body hug lifting her off her feet. Andrea's startled gasp and ringing laughter reflected her surprise at the over the top greeting. Miranda saw Nigel whisper into Andrea's ear before grinning and releasing her.
Andrea gave him a suspicious look before turning her attention to Miranda. "You told him?" she guessed. After all, there was only one reason for Nigel to behave this way.
"I'm sorry, darling." Miranda came up behind Andrea and wrapped her arms around the young woman's middle while peering over her shoulder at Nigel.
"Nigel, you can never tell." Andrea leaned into Miranda's embrace, her expression somber.
"I know, Six. I'll take it to my grave. I swear." Nigel put his hand over his heart.
"How was your trip?" Miranda decided they needed to break the serious mood. She pushed her wife toward the loveseat and pointed Nigel to the wingback chair. She retrieved another glass before making herself comfortable next to Andrea. Miranda poured some whiskey into the clean glass and handed it to the younger woman.
Andrea took a sip, and her eyes popped open. "Oh, wow. Smooth." She took another sip before telling Nigel and Miranda about her meetings with the governor and his staff. Miranda asked a few questions as Nigel remained silent.
"It looks like we'll be able to expand the private/public partnership after the first of the year," Andrea said as she lifted her glass in a silent toast.
"Congratulations, Six." Nigel raised his glass to her. When he finished his drink, he set the empty glass on the coffee table. "I can't quite wrap my mind around what you did." He tilted his head and studied his friend. "What made you think you could pull it off?"
Shrugging, Andrea seemed uncomfortable with the subject. "Have you heard athletes describe being in the zone?" She waited for Nigel's slow nod before continuing. "When I stepped into the office and saw Irv on the floor with Miranda holding the gun, it was like time stopped. I considered and discarded half a dozen scenarios before I reached Miranda's desk." She sighed. "I always heard that if you are going to tell a lie, keep it simple. There was only one lie that would work, and I had to protect Miranda."
Miranda reached over and took Andy's hand. "I would have survived, darling," she said softly.
"Maybe, but at what price? I was serious that night. The girls needed you." She set her glass down and turned, pulling one leg up as she faced her wife. "If you had been arrested, the DA would have gone nuts. Charging you would have earned him major political points. If you had been found guilty, there's no telling how many years you could have been sentenced to prison."
"She's right," Nigel sighed. "At least Andy got off relatively light."
Miranda pursed her lips and stared at the hand she still clasped. "Light?" Miranda spat out. She raised her head and glared at Nigel and Andrea. "Because of me, she's a convicted felon. She gave up her dreams for me. That seems to be a rather heavy price to pay."
Andrea lifted Miranda's hand and kissed her knuckles. "I will always protect you, sweetheart."
"Even from myself?" Miranda huffed.
"Especially from yourself," Andrea said as she squeezed Miranda's fingers. "Besides, dreams change. I think I'm doing good work with the foundation. A lot of women are getting help, and that's changing their lives." Andrea reached up and ran a finger along Miranda's cheek. "I have you, so my dreams came true after all," she whispered.
Miranda's glare dissolved, and a gentle smile took its place.
"I'll get out of your hair as soon as I call a cab," Nigel said, flashing a fond grin as he pulled out his phone and placed the call. He stood and paused. "Andy, may I ask one question? I promise I'll never bring it up again."
Andrea tilted her head as she considered his request. "Sure."
Nigel rubbed his chin. "Why did you shoot into the carpet?"
Raising an eyebrow, Andrea gazed at Nigel with a curious expression on her face. "GSR."
At his confused look, she elaborated. "Gunshot residue. I wasn't sure if they would even test me, but I wanted to make sure there was some on my hand and clothing. I didn't know how thorough an investigation the detectives would perform. After all, they had a confession."
"So did they?" Nigel arched an eyebrow.
"No," she answered with wry smile. "But I had no idea what was going to happen that night." Miranda watched Andrea stand and offer her a hand. Grasping it, Miranda rose from her chair and did not release it as they followed Nigel down the hallway.
"I suppose I'll see the two of you on Friday at the party," Nigel said.
Andrea's eyes widened. "Ahh, I wasn't planning on attending." She grimaced as Miranda pursed her lips. "I was going to offer to babysit Isabella," she whined.
"Andrea, we discussed this. I would like you to attend with me." Miranda said, her voice turning frosty.
"Miranda, sweetie, think about it. It wouldn't be right. I don't want to take away from your big night." Andrea looked to Nigel to back her up.
"Don't look at me." Nigel raised his hands. "I think you of all people should be there."
"Huh?" Confused, Andrea swung her gaze from Nigel to Miranda and back.
"Six, as far as everyone at Runway is concerned, you saved Miranda." Nigel reached into the closet and pulled out his coat. "By saving Miranda, you saved Runway and Men's Runway."
When Andrea continued to look baffled, Nigel continued. "If Irv had driven Miranda away, Runway would have folded within a year. Men's Runway would not have seen the light of day."
"But you," Andrea began.
"No." Nigel frowned. "I was never Irv or the board's choice for editor-in-chief. In fact, anyone with close ties to Miranda would have been gone. That means me, Emily, Serena, Jocelyn, and quite a few others." He started to pull on his coat and paused. "If Miranda had been arrested, the results would have been the same. The board would have run the magazine into the ground."
Nigel finished pulling on his coat and pointed at Andrea. "You are a Runway legend. Everyone I've ever spoken to believes you did the right thing. I can just imagine the number of heads that would explode if they knew the whole truth." He chuckled.
"Darling, you made it possible for me to retire. I want you at my retirement celebration with me. You deserve to be there." Miranda lifted Andrea's hand and kissed it.
"I wanted to see Isabella. Besides, I don't have anything to wear," Andrea complained.
"Really, Andrea," Miranda scoffed. "There is a dress waiting for you in your closet. Serena and Emily have made arrangements with their nanny to watch Isabella the night of the party. We will see her on Saturday when we celebrate her first birthday."
"Fine. I guess I'll see you Friday, Nigel," Andrea sighed.
"Wonderful." Nigel hugged Andrea and kissed Miranda's cheek before leaving.
They watched from the doorway as Nigel got into the cab and sped away.
After closing the door Miranda pulled Andrea into her arms. "You gave up so much for me. I can never repay you."
Andrea returned the embrace and laid her head on Miranda's shoulder. "Sweetheart, it's not about being in debt to each other. I would die for you. Or more importantly, I would live for you. Just as I did in prison."
Miranda sighed. "You never talk about your time there," she said sadly.
"There's not much to tell. I endured." Pulling back, Andrea shrugged.
Tilting her head, Miranda looked at Andrea as sadness washed through her. She reached up and moved a lock of hair behind Andrea's ear.
Andrea gave her a gentle smile. "Every day I woke up, I was one day closer to you. I did whatever I was told: swept floors, washed dishes, helped women with their reading. I kept busy so that the day would fly by. Then I'd go to bed, and the next morning I was another day closer."
Miranda closed her eyes, and Andrea gently cupped her cheek. "And now?" Miranda whispered.
Miranda smiled when Andrea pulled her into a hug. "Now I get up in the morning grateful that we are together. I savor every moment with you. If I could, I would grab time and slow it down so that I could experience each moment longer with you."
"I'm so much older, darling." Miranda pulled back to look into Andrea's eyes. "I won't always be here."
"You don't know that," Andrea said as she shook her head. "I may go first." Before Miranda could protest, Andrea held up a finger. "But if you do pass before me, I will endure. I'll rush through my day, and each morning when I get up, I'll be one day closer to you."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "You are excruciatingly romantic."
"I know." Andrea smirked before kissing Miranda's cheek. "It's a gift."
"Take me to bed, Andrea," Miranda whispered. She felt her wife lead her toward the staircase as she had so many times before.
"Yes, Miranda," Andrea whispered.
Epilogue
Forty-four years after the incident
Nigel eased out of the cab and closed the door. As the vehicle sped away into the night, he gazed up at the townhouse door with dread. Tapping his cane twice for luck he slowly climbed the steps. The door swung open before he had a chance to ring the bell.
"Thanks for coming so quickly, Uncle Nigel." Caroline Priestly-Wright stepped aside as Nigel entered.
"Hello, sweetheart." Nigel set his cane against the foyer table and started to remove his coat.
Caroline gently assisted him and hung it in the closet. Nigel retrieved his cane, and they moved down the hallway.
"The doctor just left. He said it could be anytime." Caroline briefly clasped Nigel's arm. "I'm glad you're here."
Nigel nodded and patted Caroline's hand. He paused at the doorway of what used to be the formal living room. In the last month it had been transformed. In the center of the room, a hospital bed held the frail body of his dearest friend. Cassidy Priestly-Lewis was at the bedside holding the older woman's hand. She leaned in to whisper in the woman's ear. He watched as the woman faintly shook her head.
"So stubborn," Cassidy said softly. She looked at Nigel and grimaced. "She refuses to take any more painkillers." Cassidy waved Nigel to the chair beside the bed.
"Six, are you causing trouble?" Nigel reached for Andy's hand as he sat.
"I refuse to spend my last hours drugged into unconsciousness," Andy rasped. "How are you, Nigel?" She squeezed his hand.
"I'm fine, darling. I could ask you the same thing, but I know the answer." Nigel set his cane aside and leaned against the bed.
"I endure." Andy gave a faint smile and closed her eyes.
"That's the answer." Nigel raised the delicate hand to his lips and kissed the translucent skin. Since the day of Miranda's funeral, Andy had answered each inquiry into her state of being in the same way. "I endure" became her way of saying she was waiting to be reunited with the love of her life. She had been patiently waiting for five years. Andy seemed relieved by the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer six weeks ago. Where her family and friends had been horrified and grief stricken, Andy projected a beatific calm.
"Has anyone else been by?" Nigel looked across the bed to the twins. Cassidy was seated holding Andy's other hand. Caroline stood behind Cassidy rubbing her sister's shoulders.
"Emily, Serena, and Isabella were here earlier. The rest of the family came by this morning after you left. She didn't want us to call anyone else." Cassidy wiped the tears from her eyes.
"Didn't want everyone's last memory of me to be like this." Andy's voice was soft and barely carried beyond the bed.
"Just like you didn't want anyone to visit you after the incident." Nigel shook his head thinking back to those dark days. Her fierce protective streak never ceased to amaze him.
"It would have hurt you seeing me in that place. It would have hurt me watching you leave." Nigel watched Andy's expression twist in pain as her body tensed.
"Andy, let me ask the nurse if she has something not quite as strong as the other stuff." Cassidy laid her hand on Andy's shoulder. "Just something to take the edge off."
Andy swallowed and gave a slow nod. Cassidy started to get up but Caroline patted her shoulder and left to get the night nurse.
Within minutes the nurse prepared and injected the requested medication before leaving the family to their vigil. The relief was immediately noticeable as some of the tension drained from Andy's body.
Caroline slipped around her sister to move to the head of Andy's bed. She started combing her fingers through Andy's gray hair. "I don't think we ever said thank you," she whispered before leaning down and kissing Andy's forehead.
"Watching you grow up and have families of your own was thanks enough," Andy murmured.
"Mom said we owed you so much." Cassidy leaned closer. "She said we should ask you about that night. I don't know how many times we tried," she sighed.
"No need. You know what happened." Andy seemed to force the words out. Nigel thought her breathing sounded labored.
"No, I don't think we do," Caroline guessed. "Nigel? Do you?"
Nigel rubbed his chin and stared at Andy, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she did, he raised one eyebrow.
"No need." Andy sighed and closed her eyes again.
"Miranda would disagree," he gently corrected.
"She's not here," Andy breathed out. "Yet."
"Cassidy was right. You are stubborn." Nigel gently caressed the frail hand he cradled.
"But you love me anyway." Andy struggled to open her eyes again. She glanced at Nigel before turning her gaze toward the girls. "I did what needed to be done that night out of love. Love for your mother and for you. Nigel?" Nigel gently squeezed Andy's hand as her eyes drifted close again. "After. Make sure they understand."
Nigel nodded at the twins and wiped a tear from his cheek.
For the next couple of hours, Andy seemed to drift in and out of consciousness. At times she would murmur incomprehensible phrases. Her breathing gradually became more labored. Nigel, Caroline, and Cassidy took turns sitting and holding her hands or pacing at the foot of the bed. Around 2:30 a.m. Andy roused and weakly squeezed the hands holding hers. Nigel was again sitting on one side, Caroline on the other, with Cassidy sitting on the foot of the bed petting Andy's leg.
Andy turned her head and stared over Nigel's shoulder. Nigel felt a cold chill race down his spine when Andy smiled and whispered Miranda. That long exhalation was her last.
xxx
Two weeks later Nigel again exited a cab in front of the townhouse. This time it was early afternoon, and the November sun was bright. Andy had been laid to rest next to her beloved a week prior. Today he would tell the girls about the incident.
Nigel mentally rolled his eyes. Girls indeed. The twins were in their mid-fifties with hair more gray then red. Cassidy was already a grandmother and Caroline's youngest daughter would soon give birth. Old habits, he thought as he climbed the stairs. He rang the door bell and waited.
This time Cassidy opened the door and welcomed him into the townhouse. "Hello, Uncle Nigel." She kissed his wrinkled cheek before helping remove his coat as Nigel passed his cane from hand to hand. "We're in the sitting room at the end of the hall." Cassidy hung the coat in the closet and joined Nigel in the slow walk to the sitting room. The door to the formal living room was open, showing that it had been restored to its previous state. The medical equipment and furnishings were just a sad memory.
The two had just entered the sitting room when Caroline came in from the kitchen carrying a tray with a tea service. "Hi, Uncle Nigel. I made your favorite." She placed the tray on the coffee table and proceeded to pour and pass cups to her sister and honorary uncle before taking her own. Everyone made themselves comfortable and sipped their drinks.
"What will happen to the townhouse? Will you sell it?" Nigel relaxed back into the overstuffed chair and gazed around the room.
"My daughter, Amanda, is going to move in," Caroline said. "She's always loved this place, and she wants to raise a family here."
"I think Mom and Andy would have loved that." Cassidy smiled at her sister before sipping her tea.
"It will be wonderful for this house to be filled with the sounds of children and family again." Nigel raised his cup to salute the idea.
The trio refilled their cups and settled in for their meeting. Nigel took a deep breath and gave Caroline and Cassidy a pointed look. "Are you sure you want to know what happened that night?" He wasn't surprised by their decisive nods. "Very well. I'll tell you exactly what Miranda told me. Five years after the incident, I came by to keep your mom company. Andy asked me to stop in because she was out of town and was worried that Miranda would be bored. You were spending the evening with friends." Nigel took a swallow of tea before setting his cup on the side table.
"The night of the incident, your mother was in her office working on the Book. Andy was at her desk working on expense reports when Irv barreled past into Miranda's office." He watched Cassidy barely keep from spewing a mouthful of tea and Caroline nearly dump her cup in her lap.
"But? That's not, they said," Cassidy sputtered.
Caroline's mouth dropped open. "They said Andy was next to Mom," she finally blurted out.
"That was only the first lie told that night." Nigel gave the twins a wry smile. "That is a direct quote from your mother."
Cassidy set her tea cup down before standing and rushing out of the sitting room. Nigel and Caroline exchanged confused glances before she came back in with three glasses and a bottle of single malt whiskey. She set the glasses down and poured a generous measure into each. "I have a feeling we're going to need this." Cassidy handed Nigel and her sister each a glass before retaking her seat. She took a healthy swallow before gesturing to Nigel to continue.
He repeated what he had learned that night. When he got to Andy's arrest, Cassidy slammed her glass down on the coffee table.
"Mom just let Andy take the blame," she seethed.
"Stop!" Nigel held up his hand and glared. "Your mother did not JUST do anything!" He slowly lowered his hand and took a breath, reining in his temper. "It was Andy's idea, and she had to convince your mom that it was for the best."
Cassidy slumped back in her chair. When Nigel glanced at her sister, he was surprised by the bemused look on Caroline's face.
When Cassidy noticed, she pointed at Caroline. "You aren't surprised. You knew!" she accused.
"No." Caroline slowly shook her head. "But I always thought there was something off with Mom and Andy's story. They just seemed weird if anything remotely connected to the incident came up." She stared at Cassidy. "Do you remember after the trial, we were hanging out in my bedroom and you said 'The only reason Andy shot Irv was…'."
"Because she got to the gun first." In a whisper, Cassidy completed the quote. "That was it. Deep down we always knew Mom was capable, but we never expected the same from Andy." Cassidy rubbed her forehead.
"I knew Andy was protective." Caroline looked at Nigel. "But I always thought she was more the kick-your-ass or upper-cut-to-the-jaw kind of protective." She picked up her glass and finished her whiskey.
"Now that you know the truth, will you tell the rest of the family?" Nigel asked.
"No!" Caroline and Cassidy answered at the same time.
"It really doesn't matter anymore. The official story is that Andy did what she did to save us. Bottom line? That's what happened." Cassidy shrugged and tossed back the rest of her drink.
"And I'm certainly not revising Mom's memoirs," Caroline added. "We worked on those for two years. The incident and the years immediately following were the hardest parts to write. She didn't want to talk about it. At least now I know why." Caroline refilled her glass and waved the bottle at Nigel and Cassidy. When they nodded, she topped off their drinks as well.
Nigel and the Priestly women sipped their drinks in silence, lost in thought. "I think you're wrong," he finally whispered staring into his drink. "Andy would have gladly murdered Irv to keep you safe. As far as she was concerned, Miranda going to prison was a no-go, and the two of you living with your drug-addicted father was not happening on her watch." He ran his hand over his bald head. "Andy maintained that the simplest lie is always the best."
Caroline leaned back in her chair and stared at a point on the far wall. "She did it because she loved us," she whispered.
"Mom or Andy?" Cassidy raised one eyebrow and ran her fingers through her hair.
"Both," said Nigel. He raised his glass. "To Miranda and Andy and the love they shared."
Caroline and Cassidy raised their glasses. "To Mom and Andy."
The End