It so happened that Emily’s parents passed away when she was still very young. A distant relative didn’t want to take in another child, realizing she couldn’t handle two—her own son had just been born. So, Emily ended up in an orphanage.
She remembered almost nothing about her parents, so she tried to simply enjoy life. The girl didn’t strive to be adopted into a new family; she got along well with everyone at the orphanage and thought she’d stay there until she came of age. Besides, she had an Aunt Victoria, though her real name was Vera, which she changed when she married an American. This same Victoria had refused to take in little Emily because of her son. But all in all, they knew each other. Victoria would occasionally visit the orphanage, bringing Emily various gifts: pastries, toys, or new clothes. Victoria’s son, Michael, whom his parents named in an American style, didn’t like Emily and refused to visit her at the orphanage. In general, Michael was a rather spoiled and capricious child.
One day, Victoria had no one to leave him with, but she needed to attend Emily’s birthday at the orphanage, so she brought the boy along. Michael whined the entire way, complaining that he was supposed to be playing on his imported gaming console with his friend—after all, he had to show off that he owned such a console!
— Sweetie, we’ll be back soon, and you can play as much as you want, — Victoria repeated patiently.
— I want to play now! — the boy wailed, nearly hoarse.
— Well, we’re already here, — Victoria said, trying to ignore her son’s outbursts as she parked the car. — Will you come with me?
— I’m not going anywhere! — Michael pouted.
— Don’t you want to wish Emily a happy birthday? She’s our relative, after all.
— It’s raining outside! I want to go home and play my console! If you care so much about that girl, more than your own son, then go to her!
— Fine, — Victoria sighed. — I’ll be quick.
The woman grabbed a bag with clothes and a small toy pony tied with a pink ribbon, then headed toward the building. The children were in the playroom at the time, making do with the few shared toys they had. So, Victoria asked a staff member to bring Emily to her.
— Emily, hi! — Victoria smiled.
— Hi, Aunt Victoria, — Emily approached her distant relative shyly.
— It’s your birthday today, right?
— Yes…
— This is for you! — Victoria handed Emily the toy pony.
The girl’s eyes lit up with delight.
— Thank you! — Emily took the pony and hugged her aunt tightly.
After all, the girl didn’t realize that this same aunt could have taken her to a warm, wealthy home instead of just bringing toys and clothes a couple of times a year.
— Happy birthday, — Victoria repeated. — And here’s some clothing. Take it, but don’t share it with the other kids; we picked it out for you.
— Okay, thank you! — But, of course, eight-year-old girls were already eagerly swapping sparkly tops and shiny shoes.
Aunt Victoria didn’t need to know that, though. Emily looked at her distant relative with hope. She was one of the few children who had any relatives visit at all.
— Aunt Victoria, will you come to the rooms? Will you read us something?
— Emily, I can’t today, — the woman sighed. — I need to take Mikey home.
— Michael’s with you? — Emily’s eyes widened.
She’d seen the boy a couple of times from a distance and really wanted to meet him.
— Why didn’t he come in?
— It’s raining outside, — Victoria replied, puzzled, as Emily glanced out the window.
A few drops lazily slid down the glass. The girl looked back at the woman.
— That’s hardly rain…
— Well, for some, it’s enough to be scared, — Victoria smirked. — Alright, Emily, I have to go. Until next time!
— Until New Year’s… — Emily sighed softly.
When Emily was sixteen, she was invited to a family dinner for the first time. She didn’t know why she’d received such an honor, so she felt a bit nervous. Aunt Victoria seemed to treat her kindly enough, but Emily only knew her from the family. There would also be Victoria’s husband, her son, and some of their American snob friends passing through the city. All in all, it might be better not to go. But missing a rare chance at a family dinner wasn’t appealing either. No one had ever invited Emily out to eat before. She so badly wanted to escape the orphanage, even if just for more than a few hours. She was at that age where she dreamed of her first romantic relationships. She fantasized about a fairytale: meeting her true love, making new friends, landing a prestigious job…
But for now, those were just dreams. So, Emily decided to attend the dinner. She picked out her best clothes, and her friends at the orphanage helped her with makeup, lending her some of their cosmetics. Life at the orphanage was far from luxurious. One lipstick for ten girls, a single tube of mascara, and a couple of perfume bottles for the entire place. Most of the orphanage’s budget went to food and books—no jewelry or cosmetics beyond soap and shampoo. The staff didn’t exactly approve of their young charges wearing makeup either. But somehow, Emily got ready and informed them she was heading to her distant relatives’ home. The staff wished her luck but warned her to return by 10:30 p.m. if she wanted to sleep in her own bed, or the guard would lock the doors.
— I’ll be back, I think. I doubt they’ll let me stay overnight, — Emily shrugged.
— Safe travels, — the staff member sighed.
Only on the way to Aunt Victoria’s apartment did Emily suddenly wonder: why hadn’t they taken her in?
No one mistreated her at the orphanage, but it was still an orphanage. The food was poor, the education subpar, the clothes often didn’t fit quite right. Aunt Victoria tried to help with that, so if she was already spending money, couldn’t she have taken Emily in? Was she afraid Emily would eat too much? That she’d cost too much money? The thought stung. But for now, Emily didn’t want to ruin her relationship with her aunt. She was old enough to start thinking about what she’d do after leaving the orphanage, and material support certainly wouldn’t hurt.
Aunt Victoria’s apartment was in the heart of the city, in a building with security. The guard had been instructed to let Emily in, though he stepped aside reluctantly, likely guessing from her appearance that she wasn’t “high society.” Emily took the elevator to the right floor and rang the doorbell. Victoria herself opened the door.
— Hello, — Emily smiled. — I’m not too early, am I?
— Oh, good evening! — Victoria beamed. — No, not at all. Come in, take off your coat… Here’s the closet. Put on some slippers and head to the living room.
As Emily took off her coat, she glanced around the apartment. Everything was in light tones, with expensive appliances everywhere. Snippets of conversation drifted from the living room, in both English and the local language. Emily felt uneasy: her English was poor, and if Victoria’s husband and his friends didn’t speak the local language, she’d feel awkward the whole time.
— A moment of attention, please! — Victoria announced, leading Emily into the spacious living room. — I’d like to introduce you all to my niece, Emily.
The guests reacted differently: some smiled warmly at Emily’s shy smile, while others scrutinized her from head to toe before returning to their conversations.
— Come, sit here, — Victoria gestured to a seat next to her.
On her other side sat a brunette with a touch of gray, looking like a British lord from a storybook. Next to the “lord” was a young man playing on a handheld gaming console, whom Emily recognized as Michael.
— Hi, Emily, — the “lord” spoke. — I’m John, Nikki’s husband.
— Hello, John. Nice to meet you, — Emily smiled.
— Where are you from? — John asked.
His voice, by the way, was quite ordinary, not aristocratic at all.
— From here, the city, — Emily replied.
— Wonderful. I’m from New York. Came here to close a deal with a partner, and I fell in love with this amazing city and its incredible subway, so I decided to stay, — John chuckled. — Then I met Nikki. And I knew for sure I wasn’t going anywhere.
— That’s so sweet, — Emily sighed. — I hope someone talks about me like that someday.
— Oh, you’ve got time! — John laughed. — Now, I recommend starting with the salad, then trying the steak.
The dinner went wonderfully, despite Emily’s fears. She chatted pleasantly with Aunt Victoria and her husband John, barely speaking to anyone else. Time flew by, and she didn’t really want to leave. At one point, John stepped out to the balcony to smoke with his friends, leaving Emily without a conversation partner—Victoria had gone to call a cleaning service to arrange for the apartment to be tidied. Of course, washing dishes wasn’t for the wealthy.
— Emily, is it true you’re from an orphanage? — a woman suddenly asked as soon as the hosts left the room.
— Yes, it’s true, — Emily nodded.
— Hmm. Interesting. Why didn’t they take you to live here? Was there something wrong with your parents?
— I don’t remember my parents, — Emily tensed. — But I’m sure they were wonderful people.
— Here, we either speak well of the dead or not at all, — another woman chimed in.
— Yes, very interesting. But I think a healthy child would’ve been taken in, — the first woman countered.
Emily tried to mentally distance herself from this uncomfortable topic. Why were they discussing her as if she weren’t there?
— Emily, how’s the dinner? — Michael asked loudly, and Emily latched onto him like a lifeline.
— Wonderful, — she smiled. — Everything’s delicious.
— Of course. It’s not your orphanage scraps, — Michael smirked.
Emily stared at the boy in shock. Meanwhile, Michael walked over to a table against the wall and rummaged through a pile of pastries.
— Here, this is more your price range. We’re not a charity, you know.
With that, he placed a half-eaten honey pastry on Emily’s plate. Tears welled in her eyes as she watched. Laughter erupted around her, and Michael stood nearby, smirking smugly. Emily’s face flushed, and she stood up.
— I think it’s time for me to go. Thank you for the dinner. Goodbye, — she said, quickly heading to the hallway.
— Mom! Your little ragamuffin’s leaving! Go make sure she doesn’t steal anything! — Michael shouted.
— You little… — Emily muttered a curse under her breath.
How she wished she could be far, far away from this place. They’d all been laughing at her from the start, watching her fumble with the utensils, not knowing how certain dishes should taste, declining expensive coffee in favor of cheaper tea, and so on.
— What’s wrong? Leaving already? — Victoria appeared.
— Don’t worry, I’m not stealing anything, — Emily sniffled.
— Oh, the boy was just joking. Why are you so upset? — Victoria said, perplexed.
— Was he joking when he gave me someone’s half-eaten pastry? Sorry, but I don’t get those kinds of jokes. If you invited me just to entertain your rich friends, please don’t do it again. Don’t contact me at all! Ever!
— You’re hysterical, young lady. Go calm down. If you can’t handle my son’s harmless joke, maybe it’s best we stop communicating, — Victoria said sternly.
Emily didn’t respond and headed for the door. She returned to the orphanage well before 10:30 p.m. The staff member noticed her sad expression and hurried to find out what had happened.
— Emily, what… — she began, but Emily cut her off.
— Elizabeth, it’s fine. I just don’t want to talk about it right now.
— Alright. Are you sure you’re okay?
— Yes, — Emily said, closing the door to her room.
Teenagers often returned from visits with relatives upset, as those relatives would badmouth their parents or point out their flaws. Emily was no exception. That single visit to the relatives who’d refused to take her in was a crushing blow. After that, Aunt Victoria never visited or called again. At first, Emily took it hard, but within a year, she’d forgotten Michael’s cruelty and his entire family. People are cruel—that’s what she learned from that dinner.
Emily set her sights on becoming a lawyer, studying diligently for her exams. Though she had benefits for university admission, she still worked hard on her textbooks. In the end, she aced her exams and got into university. She studied tirelessly, never missing a lecture. By twenty-two, she received an apartment from the state, and a year later, she graduated with a law degree.
At her graduation party, a classmate, Robert, approached her. He’d shown interest in her before, but Emily had been too focused on her studies.
— Hey, — he smiled. — Not busy with studies today?
— Haha, not today, — Emily chuckled.
— So, what do you say to a moonlit walk after the party?
— Hmm. I don’t see any reason not to, — she agreed.
Robert and Emily started dating. She wasn’t thinking about marriage yet, wanting to focus on finding a job. Becoming a private lawyer right away was unlikely, but she could try for a position in a public organization, which might open doors to private practice later.
Emily had a clear career plan. Her boyfriend, Robert, started with an internship at his father’s firm, where senior mentors trained him and showed him interesting cases. Eventually, Robert felt ready to try his hand at business. He discussed it with Emily, who supported the idea, and with a little help from his father, Robert opened a small law firm that grew its staff each year.
A few years later, Robert invited Emily to a restaurant to celebrate their relationship’s anniversary. By then, Emily knew exactly how a good tiramisu should taste. Thinking back to that awful dinner, she only smirked. It was all in the distant past.
Now, she was a successful, accomplished woman who knew exactly how not to behave.
— How’s the dinner? — Robert asked, echoing Michael’s words.
Emily couldn’t hold back a short laugh.
— Wonderful. Everything’s delicious, — she replied.
— Why did you laugh just now? — he asked, confused.
— Oh, just a story from long ago, — Emily brushed it off.
— Well… — Robert seemed a bit hurt. — You should stop keeping things from me. Know why?
— Why?
— Because I’m asking you to be my wife, — he smiled, pulling out a ring box. Emily gasped. — Will you?
— Yes! Of course, yes! — she laughed, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.
Robert and Emily got married. They decided to wait on having children, so both dove into work after their honeymoon. Emily transitioned to private practice, having built a reputable name. Naturally, her services came at a high price.
One day, Emily was reviewing requests on her website when her phone rang. She was used to clients calling her directly to arrange meetings and discuss matters in person—it was standard practice. So, she wasn’t fazed when she saw an unfamiliar number.
— Hello? — she answered.
— Emily Watson?
— Yes, good evening. Who am I speaking with? — The voice seemed vaguely familiar.
— My name’s Michael, — the caller said, and images flashed before Emily’s eyes.
Michael! That Michael!
— Sorry for calling so late, but it’s important. Uh… Can I meet with you?
— Yes, of course, — Emily said, bewildered.
Did he not remember her? Though, she’d changed a lot since she was sixteen.
— Great. Just one thing… I’m already in a detention center, — Michael sniffled.
— No problem, I’m known everywhere, — Emily said, a bit more confidently.
It seemed he really didn’t recognize her.
— Tell me, what are you accused of?
— Theft. Grand theft. But I didn’t do it!
— Yes, yes, I believe you, — Emily said sweetly. — We’ll sort it out. I’ll come by tomorrow to talk.
— Thank you!
— How did you find me? — Emily asked her standard question to improve her advertising.
Michael paused.
— My… mom told me you became a lawyer about five years ago, — he said quietly. — So, I thought, a familiar person…
— Oh, so you do remember me, — Emily flared.
— Of course, I remember. Though I didn’t recognize you. That won’t affect my defense, will it?
— Not at all, — she said dryly. He hadn’t even apologized after all these years! — See you tomorrow.
— Thank you…
Emily hung up and nearly threw her phone at the wall. The only thing stopping her was that it was a gift from her husband. She sighed heavily and headed to the home bar for a glass of wine.
— Wow, it’s only Wednesday, and you’re already at it! — Robert whistled when he returned a couple of hours later.
By then, Emily had calmed down a bit, thanks to an entire bottle of wine.
— You won’t believe what happened! — she flared up again. — A client called and introduced himself as Michael!
— So? — Robert shrugged.
— It’s that brat! — Emily slammed her hand on the table. — Remember when you proposed and asked if I liked the dinner, and I laughed?
— Yeah.
— Well, once, some distant relatives invited me to dinner. The aunt used to bring me toys and clothes, so I didn’t suspect anything. Though I realized too late they didn’t take me out of the orphanage. Anyway, their son, coincidentally also named Michael, gave me a half-eaten pastry and said it was ‘my price range.’ Said they weren’t a charity. That was our last meeting. And today, this client, Michael, said he remembers me, that his mom told him about me! It’s him! That same jerk!
— Easy, easy… — Robert hugged his upset wife. — Wow. You never told me about them. Though, I get why. Listen, it’s like fate sent Michael to you.
— If you start talking about forgiveness, I’ll lose it, — Emily huffed. — I’m a believer, sure, but some things can’t be forgiven. At most, I could refuse to represent him, — she shrugged.
— Really? — Robert narrowed his eyes.
The next morning, Emily drove to the detention center Michael had mentioned. She smirked, imagining the look on his face. He’d even called her a thief…
As the daycare saying went: whoever calls names is the one who fits them. Emily was in a fantastic mood. She flashed her ID to the guard and headed to Michael. He was hard to recognize. The polished boy had turned into a gaunt, tired man with a clear fondness for bars. Seeing Emily, Michael jumped up eagerly.
— I’m so glad you came! — he said.
— Yeah, it’s like we’ve switched places, — Emily smirked.
— I actually wanted to apologize for my behavior back then… — Michael lowered his head. — You know how it was. My parents were rich, I was spoiled. And who were you? An orphanage girl, poor, a distant relative. Of course, I wanted to show off in front of the guests and act like the boss of the house. So, I made a stupid joke.
— Seemed like you put a lot of thought into that ‘harmless’ joke, — Emily nodded.
— So… you’re not mad?
— Not at all, — she said, thankful for her poker face, honed to perfection in university.
— So, about those charges?
— Well, actually… — Michael started, but Emily cut him off.
— Wait, what happened to your parents? Why didn’t your mom call me? The right to call a lawyer, let alone search for one online, isn’t standard in every detention center.
— It’s a situation with Mom… Long story short, she’s in Miami, — Michael looked away.
— And why aren’t you with them? — Emily asked.
— Well… Dad found a mistress, Mom found a lover. When it all came out, I was already twenty. They talked and decided to divorce amicably. I was in school then, so the former family council decided I was a grown man. I had to fend for myself. Was I used to that? When Dad’s bank account dried up, I felt the full horror of life. Mom was busy with herself. So, I borrowed money from everyone, racked up debts, anything to avoid poverty. When Mom found out how much I owed, she told me to forget her number. Said she’d taken care of me until I was eighteen, and now I had to solve my own problems. Sly, huh… — Michael cursed, and it took all of Emily’s restraint not to slap him or at least grimace. — Dad just vanished. So, I had to… borrow money from a friend. He’d just sold his apartment and went out drinking with me to celebrate. That money would’ve covered my loan. You get it? Then the collectors started hounding me, and I panicked! I asked if he’d lend me the money. He said, ‘Take it all.’ So, I did! How was I supposed to know he’d forget everything and run to file a police report the next morning?
— Wow… Asked about your parents and got a full confession, — Emily muttered.
— It just… happened, — Michael said sheepishly. — So? Will you help me?
— It’s not a simple case. No receipts, just a verbal agreement, — Emily pretended to think. — How will you pay?
— I’ll borrow from Mom or try to reach Dad.
— I work on a prepaid basis, — Emily said coldly.
— But… I just told you, I don’t have a dime! — Michael exclaimed.
— Well… — Emily pulled a package from her purse and set it in front of him. — Then this is all you can afford. I’m not a public defender or a charity.
Michael stared in shock at a half-eaten honey pastry, identical to the one he’d placed on Emily’s plate when she was a teenager. He hadn’t admitted he meant to humiliate her, but she knew.
— Emily… I was just a kid… Now I’m in serious trouble! Can’t you see the difference?
— Of course, I see it. But I can’t do anything about it—I don’t work on credit. Especially not for someone accused of theft. Oh, look at that! Turns out even a ‘ragamuffin’ can steal something!
Emily was practically jubilant. She left the detention center with a light heart, feeling no guilt for not helping a “good person.” This person had done nothing good for her. Plus, he’d just admitted to stealing his friend’s money. A verbal agreement, without witnesses, assuming it even existed, held no weight in court. He’d likely try to forge evidence, which could implicate Emily. She didn’t regret her decision for a second—she believed she’d done the right thing.
Six months later, Michael was found guilty. Neither his father nor his mother came to his aid. They’d either given up on him or were too busy with more important matters—it didn’t matter to Emily. She helped people out of tough situations when the innocent were framed or judges were bribed… but she had no interest in helping real, malicious criminals.
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