Chapter Text
Go west, and then go north.
There’s a town tucked between the jagged, humbling mountains of the Pacific; not quite as small as Mayberry, but certainly not so big as the large cities of the Eastern coast. Most of the side roads are a dead end, and the ones that aren’t change names somewhere in the middle. And you’re never quite sure where in the middle, only that it’s been a half a mile before you realise it.
At the edge of the town is a deep, large lake; a dark blue from a distance, but a glittering gem of sea-green waves up close when the sun hits it just right. ‘Downtown’ has but three high-rises (if you can call them that). The first is the resort building, which sits half on land and half on the lake. The second is an office building, a tower towards the edge of the main road. The third is 15 stories of condominiums with two levels of penthouse units at the top, a bakery in the bottom, situated right across the street from the library and the park.
There are two roads that run through town, one end to the other, all 8 blocks of it. Main Street, where the resort is, and Lake Street, home to the courthouse, music conservatory, and a few rogue shops that didn't make it onto Main. The resort has a marina attached to it and a floating boardwalk that wraps around the length of it, creating a loop. The courthouse has large willow trees on the front lawn, one on each corner of the building.
Follow Main Street toward the lake until it curves, keep going for a half a mile and it turns into Pacific Boulevard. This street branches off to a handful of subdivisions, a couple of elementary schools and one of the middle schools. The high school is at the corner of Pacific and Heron, and Heron runs into the next quarter of town, almost parallel to the lake.
This is Juniper Bay, otherwise known as The Heart of The North.
August comes to a close. School is starting up again. Small businesses are beginning to put their fall displays up in their windows, shifting their inventory to autumn. The days are warm still once the sun comes up, but the mornings leave the beginnings of frost on car windows, and the grass cold with dew.
Her breath is visible in the air, appearing in puffs before vanishing. The only sound is the drum of her heartbeat in her ears. Her feet fall heavy on the dark pavement of the road as she winds through the suburbs; away from everything, and towards nothing at all.
Kieran Haight loved being a lawyer. He loved helping people.
He loved his job.
He did, honest to God.
Of course, that didn’t mean he always liked his job.
“I switched the second and third paragraphs around because I didn’t like the way that it sounded and I think it’s better now but I wasn’t sure so I sent you the updated PDF so that you could look over it-”
“George.” Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, holding his cell in the other. “You’re going to be fine. Whatever you’ve written I’m sure is more than fine.”
A few weeks ago, the firm had decided that Kieran would be the perfect mentor for a 20 year old kid starting his first year in Law School. It was through a new program that let students shadow "real live lawyers" while preparing to pass The Bar. And so along came George.
Snobby coworkers and rude clients were part of the deal, and Kieran knew that going in. But this one client, for whatever reason, was bound and determined to be the biggest pain in the-
“I don’t know, I’ve never done closing arguments like this before and I don’t want to screw it up after all the hard work we did-”
“It’s quarter to five in the morning, George.” Kieran glanced at the clock on his night table, the bright red numbers fuzzy from sleep. “Did you sleep at all?”
A long pause. Kieran sighed, pulling his free hand down his face. “Look- it’s gonna be okay. Remember, we’ve presented far more evidence than was probably necessary, and our witnesses did a stellar job in turning the jury our direction. I don’t normally like to jump to conclusions on stuff like this, but this was a real softball of a trial. We’ve already won the case; Closing Arguments, at this point, are just icing on the cake.”
“And you’re sure-”
“George,” Kieran cut him off. “I am absolutely positive. Will it make you feel better if I come into the office early and we can run Closings one more time before the trial this afternoon?”
“....yes please.”
“Okay. I’ll be over there…” Kieran craned his neck, checking the time again and doing the mental math. “6:30, 7?”
“Thanks, Mr. Haight,” The relief from the other end of the call was palpable.
“Just Kieran, alright? Mr. Haight is my father,” Kieran said with a chuckle.
“Right, sorry- Kieran. I’ll remember that.”
Now, standing over the coffee pot, desperate for the strong smell to wake up his senses, Kieran tried to shake himself awake as best he could. He was a morning person- he had to be in this profession- but even this was too early to constitute ‘early’.
August was nearly coming to a close, bringing with it the signs of an early Autumn. The mornings were getting steadily colder, needing the sun to warm up the air. Kieran stood on his deck, wrapped up in one of his NYU hoodies, savoring his coffee as the sun rose up over the lake. He’d always considered himself extremely lucky to live in the only condo high rise in town; he loved the small town lifestyle, but sometimes he missed the city. His little deck over the town was the closest thing he’d get back to his New York apartment, and he reveled in the stillness of the mornings, watching the sky growing lighter at the edges of the mountain.
Even when he was a child, Kieran knew that he wanted to help people. He’d briefly considered going to Med School and becoming a doctor, but one 7th grade biology class in middle school had quickly ruled that option out. By the time he reached High School, he found a spark within him to fight for justice, and all the signs pointed to Law School.
He had a wildly successful career, in a town that he adored, with everything that he could ever want. But there was something… missing. Something that he couldn’t quite place.
It was a shapeless sort of question that had been nagging at Kieran more and more lately.
But it would have to wait.
Showered and dressed, Kieran threw together a quick breakfast bagel to take on the road to the office and tossed his satchel over his shoulder. He took the elevator down to the parking garage, early morning light spilling in through the gate to the road. Halfway through a text to George, Kieran did a double take at the sight of someone standing at his car.
“Hey!”
Something clattered to the ground as the person- a girl- whipped around to face him. She couldn’t have been older than a freshman in college, her eyes wide with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. Long, russet waves of hair hung down to her waist, windswept and lightly tangled at the edges. A dark flannel was tied around her waist over a black crop top, ripped jeans and a beat up pair of Chuck Taylors completing her look.
No older than a high schooler, Kieran mentally amended.
“It’s not what it looks like,” She declared, hands held up in surrender.
“Because it looks like you’re trespassing and breaking into someone’s vehicle?”
A pause. “Okay so- maybe it’s a little bit what it looks like.”
Kieran tipped his head, trying to get a better look at her in the low light of the garage. “Good Lord…” He sighed. Some punk kid breaking into his car was not what he needed this morning. “How old are you?”
“18,” She tipped her chin up defiantly.
Kieran quirked a brow. “That means you can be tried as an adult.”
She mentally backtracked. “17?”
A pause as Kieran stared her down. After a few seconds, she caved. “Fine, I’m 16.” Another pause. “In a month.”
“Jesus-” Kieran shook his head. “Kid, what are you doing ? Just looking for trouble? You’re- my God, you’re so young.”
“I’m not that young,” She defended, arms falling to her sides. The fire in her voice seemed to waver a little as she asked, “Are you going to call the cops?”
Kieran sighed. “I really should.” He admitted. “Breaking and Entering isn’t cool , despite what some kids your age seem to think. Furthermore, neither is trespassing; sometimes there are gates up for a reason, and the last thing you want is to get hurt somewhere because you thought it’d be a fun way to kill an evening. So yeah, I really should call the police.”
She closed her eyes in a grimace, ducking her head a little with a soft swear. Kieran looked her over again, something about this whole situation not quite sitting right with him. After a moment, he relented.
“I should call the police,” He repeated. “But I won’t.”
The kid picked her head up, surprise in her face. “What? Why?”
“Let’s just write it off as your lucky day, alright?” Kieran said, his voice softening a little. “I’m really not in the mood to deal with filing a report and a claim and all that jazz, so… just consider yourself off the hook.”
She exhaled, relief and gratitude and something else flitting across her expression. “Thank you, really-” She bent down, picking up a knife off the ground, flicking it closed and tucking it back onto her belt at her hip. “Thank you.” She repeated, the sincerity in her voice catching Kieran off-guard.
“You seem like a good kid.” Kieran swayed his head in mock thought. “For a delinquent high schooler, that is.” He added lightly.
The girl huffed part of a laugh, reaching a hand up to pull through her hair. “If it helps? I’ve never been to prison,” She announced.
“Thank God- let’s keep it that way, yeah?” Kieran suggested with a laugh. She looked like she was about to answer when she swayed on her feet a little, stumbling back and leaning a hand on his car for support. In the low light, Kieran’s gaze snagged on a dark, painful looking bruise that started at the cusp of her upper arm. The rest was hidden beneath her t-shirt, but it sent about 8 different alarm bells off in his head.
He had barely taken one step forward when her hand flew to her knife, flicking it open with a well-practiced fluidity. “Woah- woah, easy…” Kieran soothed, putting his hands up in what he hoped was a ‘weapons free’ gesture. “I just want to help.”
“I’m fine.” She bit out, eyes pressed shut. “It’ll- it’ll go away in a second.”
Kieran lowered his bag off his shoulder. “Deep breaths.” He instructed, keeping his distance but prepared to catch her if she went down. “Slow, nice and deep- good,” He watched as she listened, deliberately slowing her breathing down. “That’s good. You’re doing great.”
After a few seconds that felt like eternity, she righted herself. “I’m okay.”
“Yes, you are.” No, you’re not. “I’m-” Kieran stepped forward, keeping his hands raised. “I’m only getting my keys, okay?” He lifted his bag off the ground, claiming his keys from the inner pocket. He clicked the button for the trunk, the back of the SUV lifting. The girl jumped away with a shuffle, clipping her knife back to her side.
She groaned. “This is your car?” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I tried to steal your car and now you’re helping me."
“Sit.” Kieran motioned to the edge of the trunk. “Does that happen often?”
She shrugged, cautiously lowering herself to sit on the edge of the now open trunk. “Sometimes.”
Kieran slowly placed himself a safe distance on the other side. He handed over his breakfast bagel, offering it in front of her. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“A day or two ago, I think?” She gave in, hesitantly accepting the proffered breakfast.
Kieran nodded with an involuntary wince. “Yeah, I figured. That’s,” He motioned to the sandwich in her hand. “Nothing special, but it’s better than nothing.”
She unwrapped it slowly, watching him as if he’d yank it away at any moment. He nodded encouragingly, clocking red on her wrist as she took a bite. “You’re bleeding,” He noted. “I have a band aid in here for that, I think…”
“Hm? Oh, yeah.” She swallowed before looking at the cut in question. “Turns out I actually don’t know how to break into a vehicle. That was a result of my attempted theft.” She huffed. “Don’t worry- I scratched myself, not your car.”
“I’d rather you’d have scratched the car,” Kieran muttered, digging around a first aid bag. “What exactly was your plan after that, anyways?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know… To be honest, I didn’t think I’d get that far.” She used the back of her hand to brush a crumb off the side of her mouth. “Also, ‘nothing special’? Dude, this is the best thing I’ve ever had,” She looked at Kieran with a serious gaze. “You’re a chef. That’s the only explanation.”
Kieran chuckled softly as he retrieved a band aid from the depths of the bag. “No, just a cooking enthusiast. Actually, I’m a lawyer.”
The girl stilled a little. “Really?”
“Mhm.” Kieran hummed the affirmative, watching her polish off the remainder of the bagel and ball up the wrapping in her uninjured hand. “If- for whatever reason- you ever need any legal help… or any help, really…” He handed over a card, his name and number neatly printed next to the golden logo of the firm. “My name is Kieran. Kieran Haight”
She was quiet for a long time, studying the card.
He let her.
“Caitlyn.” She said at last. “Caitlyn Everett.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Caitlyn Everett.”