Three weeks went by and Phillip still got a sick feeling in his stomach over the mystery woman. The EMTs had swooped in and had taken her away while the police got his statement. Nobody would tell him her name, and everything happened so fast that he found himself back at home without a scratch on him. But he the pain in her eyes he couldn't forget. That haunted look of loss he recognized in his own reflection in the mirror this time of year.

Phillip flashed his eyes up at the computer screen. A contract from an important client awaited his attention. Money and numbers he could understand. So black-and-white, nothing left to interpretation with figures, gains, and losses.

Commotion sounded from the hallway and he looked to his open door.

An older woman with gray hair pushed a younger woman in a wheelchair, paused in front of his door. “Excuse me,” the younger one said.

Phillip froze. The woman in the wheelchair. Discolored bruises on her face. An arm in a sling. One foot stretched out in a cast. She looked broken in half. “It’s you,” he said, standing.

“By ‘you,’ you mean Leah Carson,” she answered and jutted up her chin. “You’re Phillip?”

“Yes,” he said. “How did you find me?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

He gestured at her. “How bad is it?”

“Let’s start with the small stuff. A broken arm. A busted kneecap. Fractures in three spots in my ankle. Oh, and the four toes I had amputated along with a shattered foot."

“I am so sorry,” he said, knowing how insufficient those words sounded. “I want to make this right. I’ll pay for all of your medical bills, no questions asked.”

She raised the sling. “I don’t want your money. You’ve ruined my life, my career, my…everything. Caroline,” she said to the stone-faced woman standing behind her. “Wheel me over to Mr. Beckett.”

He met her halfway. He narrowed his eyes at the phone in her hand.

She shoved the screen in his face. “Read,” she demanded.

Phillip’s eyes scanned the text: NIGHT BEFORE OPENING PERFORMANCE AT KENNEDY CENTER, PRINCIPAL BALLERINA SUFFERS DEVASTATING INJURIES...

His gaze jumped to hers. “Christ. I broke you.”

“I’ve worked my entire life for this role,” she continued, pulling her phone back. Tears shined in her eyes. “Thanks to you, I have nothing. I can’t dance with one toe. This role,” she said with quivering lips, “was once-in-a-lifetime. Everything is messed-up…All of it. Thanks to you. Keep your money.”
Until the next post...