I take a shaky breath and tap the screen to call him back, my fingers trembling so badly I almost drop the phone twice before I manage to get it pressed against my ear.
He answers on the first ring.
"Mark, I'm—I'm sorry," I manage, voice fraying.
"Liza, it's okay. Really."
His patience makes my throat tighten again. "No, it's not. This is all my fault."
"It's not," he insists. "And we're doing what we can for Julian," Mark continues, his voice taking on a firmer, more reassuring edge. "I've already got a criminal attorney lined up—someone good, someone who knows what they're doing. He specializes in cases like this."
“Thank you so much, Mark.”
“I would do anything for Julian,” he tells me. “The very first thing we're going to do is push hard for a bail hearing—get him out of there as soon as we possibly can. The attorney I've hired is already on top of it. He's reviewing the case details as we speak, looking for any angle we can use to expedite the process and make a strong argument for Julian's release."
Hearing this doesn't erase the knot in my gut, but it loosens it, just a bit.
"Thank you," I say, trying to believe the guilt doesn't need to consume me whole.
"So listen," Mark continues, his voice calm and steady, "we'll also arrange for you to visit Julian. It's gonna take some strings, but we'll get there."
A small relief washes over me. "I don't know how to thank you."
"Just hang in there, okay? Julian's going to need you strong."
Strong. A word that feels foreign and surreal when all I want is to collapse like a house of cards.
"Yeah… okay," I whisper.
Mark pauses, a kindness coating his words. "Have you eaten anything? Rested?"
"I—I'll try."
"You need to. He'll worry if you're not taking care of yourself."
Mark's words ache with truth, like salt on an open wound. A reminder that Julian has always put others before himself, has always—always—put me first. And here I am, unable to fight against the flood of self-loathing and helplessness.
"I'll do my best," I promise, voice barely a whisper.
"Good," Mark replies. "I'll keep you updated as things progress."
As the call ends, silence swallows the room whole. I clutch the phone to my chest, a laughable lifeline, as if it can somehow bridge the distance separating me from Julian.
I will eat, I will rest, I will do whatever it takes to gather the strength Julian will need me to have when I see him.
For now, though, all I can do is hold on to the fact that I am not as alone in this as I feared.
The fluorescent lights in the grocery store are too bright, making my head throb. I reach for a box of crackers—something bland, something I can force down. My cart barely has anything in it: bread, peanut butter, a carton of eggs. The basics. I'm so tired I could collapse right here between the cereal and the canned soup.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I nearly drop the crackers.
I fish the phone out, squinting at the bright screen. Mark's name flashes across it, and my heart lurches sideways in my chest. I fumble with the device, nearly dropping it as I swipe to answer, my fingers clumsy and shaking.
"Hello?" My voice cracks.
"Liza, good news. We got the bail hearing moved up. Tomorrow morning, nine a.m."
Tomorrow. Not next week. Tomorrow.
