Page 3 of The Rules
That gets her attention. A flicker. The older woman lifts her head, tired eyes sharpening. For a breath, she simply studies her daughter, the way one might study an oncoming storm.
“Get him out?” The words taste like disbelief. “How?”
Katherine leans forward. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out. I’ll study, work, build connections. I don’t care how long it takes. If I can bring him home even one year early, it will have been worth everything.”
A pause. Her mother’s mouth tightens. “This isn’t a cause you can just take on. This is prison. Federal. They had evidence.”
“They had a narrative,” Katherine shoots back, too fast.
“And resources. And influence. We had nothing but truth—and no one to listen.”
Lisa shifts. Not a word, just a scrape of cloth, a hand twitching toward a napkin before retreating.
Katherine draws a breath, steadying herself.
“One of the prosecution's interns doubted the verdict.
Said Dad was innocent. Before they shut him down.
That means something. There are cracks. And I’ll find them.”
Her mother looks away, eyes tracing the faded wallpaper like it might hold an answer. “And you believe you can walk into a courtroom and fix it?”
“No,” Katherine replies. “But I can learn. I will learn.”
Her voice lowers, gains weight. “I’ll take classes at night, scrub floors in the day if I have to. I’ll intern, network, fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. And when the time comes, I’ll be ready. I’ll have the tools. The leverage. I will not let this stand.”
Her throat tightens, but she doesn’t stop. “I was thinking... maybe we could use some of Lisa’s college fund. Just to start.”
The words hang there. Her mother freezes, fork halfway to her mouth, then slowly lowers it.
“No.” The tone leaves no room.
Katherine nods once, already prepared. But it still burns.
“You can’t take her future,” the older woman says, voice low and flat. “Not for a maybe.”
“It’s not a maybe.”
A sharp glance. “And yours?”
Katherine lifts her chin. “Thisismy future.”
Lisa’s voice comes quiet, but sure. “Dad coming home is more important.”
That lands harder than anything else. Katherine turns to her sister. Lisa meets her gaze, calm and resolute in a way that doesn’t belong to someone her age.
Katherine reaches across the table, takes her hand. “I’ll pay it back,” she swears. “Every cent. I will find a way to fix this.
I don’t care what it costs. Youwillgo to college. I swear it.”
She feels the weight of her mother’s gaze—heavy, conflicted, lingering on the two daughters who’ve had to grow up too fast.
“Even with that money,” she murmurs, “it won’t be enough.”
Katherine nods. “Then I’ll work. I’ll earn it. I’ll chase every scholarship, apply to every job, burn myself down if I have to. But I won’t stop.”
She hears the silence that follows. Heavy. Final. Her mother’s gaze holds hers a moment longer, searching for weakness.
