A sense of deja vu overcomes me. Walking into the foyer, heels clicking, I remember the feeling I had over a year ago. The nerves. The excitement.
Something sits heavy in my chest now as I approach the front desk. It's not the same receptionist and for some reason, this gives me a sense of peace.
"Rhea."
I turn towards the right, just as I approach the desk. Davina approaches me with a broad smile, black hair swishing as she indicates to follow her. I walk by her side as she holds open the door for me to enter the lift first.
"I was worried for a second there."
"Hmm?"
"Ten minutes late," she points to her watch, raising an eyebrow. "Not like you."
Truth be told, I'd sat in the car for half an hour before I'd found the courage to walk inside. It was like revisiting a memory you'd stored away. Something that should remain untouched.
"Sorry," I say. "Lost track of time."
"Okay," she says, clearly not believing a word I say.
"What's this kid like anyway?" I ask, moving on from the subject.
The lift dings and we are greeted by the signature glass-panelled walls of the offices here. She walks out first this time, leading me down a path I already know like the back of my hand.
"He's pretty quiet. Doesn't say much. His parents are much more intimidating, though. They like to keep him from saying much."
"Because they know something?"
Davina's steps slow as we approach her office. "He's innocent."
"Okay," I say, nodding.
"I wasn't wrong last time was I?" she says.
The thought of Brax alone makes my heart sink. As soon as she says it I can tell she feels bad.
"I--"
"It's okay," I interrupt. "What's his name?"
"I'll introduce you when we're in there."
The boy's back is turned to us as we enter. I almost don't notice his parents sitting on either side of him because I'm suddenly so struck with the eeriness that consumes me.
In the seconds it takes before he swivels around to face us, it could be Casey. Same dark hair, falling just before his shoulders. Same build. Same posture.
Only when I'm met with the different features of his face am I able to enter the room. They don't look anything alike. They aren't the same person.
You're okay.
"Thomas, this is my assistant, Rhea," Davina introduces. "Rhea, this is Mandy and John Lancaster. Thomas' parents."
I wonder how long I'm staring at John's hand until he clears his throat. I smile awkwardly, shaking his hand as I take a seat to the side of Davina.
Not much of her office has changed. Maybe a new plant and an updated photo of her child, but everything else is virtually the same as I last saw it.
It's always been so strange to think that a place won't change, but everything else around it can.
Brax was here once, and now he's gone.
"So," Davina claps and I jump.
She smiles at me reassuringly and it's all I need to know that she truly will be here to support me. Whatever I need. Whenever I need it.
"Let's just run over the main facts of the case," Davina says, flipping through a file in front of her. "This is Rhea's first day back so I'd like to get her up to speed."
"Okay," Thomas says, quietly.
I meet his gaze to find that he's staring straight back at me. It's one of those awkward moments where you look away instantly and then back again, only to find them doing the exact same thing.
From the single word that he speaks out loud, I cannot imagine him taking another's life. His voice is soft and his hands are clasped together in his lap. He seems nervous but that doesn't always equal guilt.
"On the night of February 8th of this year, you were on the 7:05 pm train coming home from your friend's, Brodie McMannon. You say you were approached by a young man, later identified as 17-year-old, Dex Bryor..."
My heart stops.
Bryor.
When my eyes shift towards Davina, I know that it isn't just a coincidence.
My life is going full circle.
I hadn't heard of Dex, but if he was anything like the rest of the Bryor's, I know it isn't going to be good.
"He began to swear at you for no apparent matter. You identified a beer bottle in his hand. It is also important to note that there was no one else was present in your carriage and there are no cameras on the train.
"You decided you would get off at the next stop so that he would leave you alone. Upon standing up, he struck you across the head with the bottle, causing it to shatter. You were dazed, falling back into your seat as he began to laugh at you.
"You remember standing up again and moving past him. He let you leave but when you were off the train, you realised he was following you. At one stage, you fell to the ground, cutting both your hands from the impact. When you stood up, thinking he would still be following you, no one was behind you.
"You rang your father to pick you up but you were so disorientated and couldn't find your location. When he told you to walk and find the closest street sign, you found the body of Dex Bryor. His throat was slit with a shattered piece of glass. The glass was a fragment from his own beer bottle."
I shiver, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.
"Your father found you sitting beside the body with the rest of the bottle in your hand as if you were inspecting it. You'd picked it up when you accidentally kicked it with your foot, approaching the body."
Davina closes the case, clasping her hands together on top of the file.
It definitely didn't sound good for Thomas. I didn't know enough yet, but being found with a part of the murder weapon is never a good sign. His fingerprints would be all over that bottle.
"I didn't kill him," he whispers.
I don't realise that he's directing his comment towards me until the room quietens, waiting for my reaction. I watch him again as he blinks slowly at me. I just nod, taking a sip from the desk water provided.
"You believe that someone else must have followed you off the train. Either someone who knew Dex or someone who watched him attack you."
"Yes," Thomas nods. "I didn't hear him scream or shout, but I was only about two hundred metres away when I walked back to the top of the street. It makes me think that he knew the person who killed him."
He moves his hands as he speaks to Davina and I sit wordlessly, taking in his body language. His eyes are dim, like they've lost their light. The small bags under his eyes are causing dark shadows to appear. I wonder if he's even sleeping.
Whether he's innocent or not, he looks terrified.
Whether he's innocent or not, I don't know whether I could ever hate him for that. It would be a contradiction if I thought he was a bad person. Casey wasn't, but he made a bad decision. A decision that cost him his life.
I didn't want another kid to lose his life before it even begins.
"Don't be scared," I say suddenly. "Davina is a great lawyer."
He looks at me again, his eyes wet with tears. "Okay," he clears his throat.
"Okay," I nod.
Watching him close to tears makes me wish I could give Casey one last hug. Holding his body as he was stripped from my arms and taken away in a body bag isn't the last memory I wanted of him.
I clear my throat, suddenly on the verge of tears myself. Luckily, I'm able to hold on for the remainder of the meeting.
Davina pulls me aside as the others leave. "You did well today," she says proudly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the connection sooner. With the case and... the Bryor's."
"It would have been nice to know," I nod. "How was he related to the others? And is Thomas in danger now?"
"He's under police guard at home. As for Dex, he was Matthew Bryor's youngest cousin."
Just another cousin causing trouble. When will the cycle ever finish?
"Is that why you really wanted me for this case? Because of the connection?"
She shakes her head. "No. I wanted you because I knew you'd be good for it. You'll make a great lawyer someday."
She walks me towards the door before we part ways, saying she'll be in touch in the next few days.
The elevator dings as I make it to the foyer. I offer the receptionist a half-hearted smile before stepping out into the cold. I breathe into my hands, walking towards the parking lot.
A shiver runs along my spine, but I know it isn't from the cold. The hairs on my arm raise suddenly.
I know someone is watching me. I can feel it deep in my bones.
I walk briskly towards my car, only feeling safe when I've locked the doors and I'm driving out of the parking lot at full speed.