Ch 21.

A thousand lies parted like the red sea, and all she saw was darkness.

Alexandra

March 9, 2001

The wind was cold in the shade, and there was no more sun for her to move in to as she curled herself tighter, arms wrapped around her legs as she shuddered violently. Part of her was longing to go home, and despite her upscale, uptown apartment, it no longer quite felt like home to go to. Everywhere just felt like some kind of bad memory; everything she had ever done just seemed so false, as if it were no longer her accomplishment. The sun finally vanished beyond the city, and a hand on her shoulder made her jump.

Swollen, tear-filled eyes turned to see the warm smile of an older Hispanic woman. "Sorry to startle you, dear," she said. "I'm with Saint Francis shelter for women. I saw you sitting here, and I wanted to offer you a place to stay tonight if you don't have somewhere else to go."

Shaking like a leaf, Alex finally realized how cold she was. Her feet were bare, toes a mild shade of blue, and she realized that flexing her fingers was difficult, at best. Her pajamas were thin and absolutely of no use against the cold. Nodding, Alex accepted the help of the other woman, standing and walking with her to a van. "I – I have a place to live," Alex finally whispered.

The woman nodded. "Is it home?" she asked.

"I don't know," Alex answered, a fresh wave of tears cascading over her cheeks. "I'm so cold."

"There's a blanket in the van, and I'll turn the heater up. Come on, dear. My name's Maria. What's yours?"

"A – Rivka," Alex stammered.

"Rivka is a beautiful name," Maria said, helping Alex to climb into the front seat of the van and pull the blanket around her violently shivering frame. "We'll head back to the shelter, and if we see people along the way, we can pick them up, too."

Alex nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. Huddled in the van, she stared out the window as Maria drove, her eyes focused ahead but not seeing any part of the city she had always called her own. That night, she felt like a stranger in her city. More than that, she felt like a stranger in her own body. They picked up two other women, and one woman declined assistance.

Alex curled on a bench inside of the shelter while a case worker talked with one of the other women. "Rivka," a woman said, crouching in front of her. "Are you okay?"

"Just cold," Alex murmured.

Without a second thought, the woman handed her a hat and a pair of socks. "Steven is looking for some shoes to help warm you up. In the mean time, why don't we go to my office and talk. You, um, well, Maria was concerned you might be running from an abusive spouse."

Alex shook her head. "Too many lies," she whispered.

The woman nodded, and Alex pulled the socks on her feet before following her into her office, the blanket from the van still squarely around her shoulders. As she walked, she felt the darkness swarm in from her peripheral vision, and she swayed. The stranger caught her, steadying her and helping her to sit down. "When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

"I don't know," Alex answered. "I'm not hungry."

"You should eat something. Allergies?" Alex shook her head. The woman stepped away, returning to the office a few seconds later with a plate wrapped in plastic wrap, a sandwich, some potato chips, and a cookie neatly wrapped beneath the plastic.

"Thank you," Alex murmured, but she set the tray on a corner of the desk and did not touch it. Instead, she drew her knees up to her chest and held on to her ankles. "Thank you for the socks."

"You're very welcome," the woman answered. "Why don't you tell me a bit about you?"

Alex shrugged. "My name's Rivka," she murmured. "I don't really know much else about me, it seems."

"Maria said you have a place to live?"

Again, Alex nodded. "I should go back there," she whispered. "I just – It's stupid, I'm sorry."

The woman shook her head. "It's not stupid, Rivka. Are you safe if you do go back, or do you think someone might hurt you? You can stay the night, get some sleep, and re-examine everything in the morning, too."

Alex shook her head. "I'll be safe. I'm the biggest danger to myself, anyway. I should – Can I call someone? She's a – she's like my older sister."

Pushing her landline towards Alex, the woman nodded. "Dial nine to get out, and then whatever number you need. I'll come back in a few minutes."

With hesitation, Alex brushed the tears from her face. "Thank you," she whispered. Alex dialed the number from memory.

"Carmichael," the woman on the other end picked up. She sounded rushed, and Alex could hear the clicking of a keyboard in the background.

"Abs?" Alex squeaked.

The clicking went silent. "Alex?" Abbie questioned. "Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

"Saint Francis Women's Shelter."

"Oh my God, Lex, what happened?" Abbie sounded worried, and Alex could hear her moving, the rustle of her jacket as she pulled it on. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright," Alex mumbled. "I was cold. They gave me socks."

Abbie chuckled, and Alex broke into tears. "Oh, Lex," the federal prosecutor murmured. "I'm so sorry."

Alex shivered, her crying uncontrollable once again. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Lexie," Abbie murmured. "I'm on my way, alright? Stay where you are. I'll come in and find you."

"Okay." Alex hung up, waiting for the other woman to return, her legs drawn up close to her.

When the other woman stepped back in to the office, she offered Alex a warm smile. "Did you reach your friend?" she asked.

Alex nodded. "She's going to come pick me up. Thank you. Um, if there's anything I can do – I – let me know?" she asked.

The woman smiled. "Just keep safe, okay?" she said, offering a reassuring hand to Alex's shoulder. "Do you want to sit in here until she gets here? It'll give you some time to think and process."

"Thank you." Alex released her legs, the feeling of being small and vulnerable not really familiar to her. In silence, she sat in the office, picking at her fingers and chewing at the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood and had to stop.

"My life is a mess," she muttered to herself as she shuddered.

In the warm office, she was no longer feeling the cold of the New York night, but there was still a deep, dark coldness inside of her that lingered. It lingered with the memories as they surfaced like tsunamis, pushing into reality until she could swear she was there, still. She could taste the vomit in the back of her throat, the smell of the leather seats, bleach on her hands and burns on her knees. There were those first nights, when she did not know, when he had handed her a brush and a bucket, and she had been made to clean up the blood and vomit. Except to clean, she was not allowed in that room. And, even to clean, she was rarely allowed.

Mostly, she swept and did dishes. She dreaded every meal. She would scrub and dry each plate and have to stand on the very tips of her toes to put the dishes in a high place. It seemed unfair that they were placed so high up. Sometimes, she slipped, and the plate would shatter across the floor. And, like a dragon, the beast would rear its head with an angry roar. If she was lucky, the punishment was an open hand across her face. If he smelled of alcohol or she knew he had been using the white powder, she just prayed she would stay awake. And, those were the nicer days.

When the visitors came, the men in suits and jeans, she learned to hide in the closet, as far back as she could, lest they see her watching them. The water burned her skin when they found her, her so-called adoptive father scrubbing her raw, yelling at her. She cried out, blindly reaching out in front of her, surprised when she found a hand to grasp hers. Her body was pulled up and out of the chair she was sitting on, and warm arms encompassed her.

"They burned me," she whispered, holding on to the other attorney.

"You're safe now, Lex," Abbie murmured. "Everyone is going to be happy you're alright." Abbie smiled as she sat the younger attorney back in the chair. "Are you physically alright? You don't have injuries?"

Alex shook her head. "Just cold feet," she whispered.

Abbie smiled. "I'm sure Olivia can help you warm them up," she murmured. "Why did you take off?"

Shaking her head, Alex stared at her lap. "I don't know," she whispered. "I wasn't really in my own head. I don't even remember leaving. What's going on with me?"

"I don't know, Lexie," Abbie replied. "I'm sorry. Olivia said you were struggling with memories?"

It was a lead, and Alex recognized as much. She nodded her head.

"What's going on?"

Biting her lower lip, Alex shrugged. "I remember what they did – not just to me. To the others. We were the youngest, but there were others, they were older. I was the only one small enough to climb through the window in our room. That's how – that's how I got out. But, I didn't know where to go. It was all I knew of America. And, a dark box."

Abbie nodded. "Olivia filled me in a little when she called earlier today." Abbie sat on the chair beside Alex, tugging the chair around to face the blonde. "Do you remember anything before the box?" Her eyes searched Alex's, and Alex met hers, pain twisting her face. "What do you remember?"

"Everything," Alex whispered, shuddering. "The blue sedan, the man – it's all me."

Abbie stroked the back of Alex's hand. "How long have you remembered that?"

Alex shook her head. "Clearly? A few days, I guess. Not long. I felt stupid thinking about it. I thought I was imaging things, getting too attached to the case. But, I'm not, am I?"

"No," Abbie said, her voice soft. "Why don't I take you back home? Olivia's there with your mother. I told her you called me."

"Did anyone tell Nataliya?" Alex whispered, her voice as unsteady as her shaking hands.

Abbie shook her head. "Olivia wanted to talk to you before moving in any direction in the case." Abbie picked up Alex's hand, watching her intently, but Alex could not bring herself to meet her friend's eyes. "I can't even imagine, Alex. Whatever you need from me, I am happy to provide."

"Can you tell me why me?" Alex asked.

"I wish I knew," Abbie answered. "I'm so sorry, Lex. If I knew, I would tell you. But, I can tell you that you have all the support and love any of us can offer. This doesn't change who you are. You're a great lawyer. You're a beautiful woman with an amazing soul. And, you're my best friend. Remember that, okay?"