I saw her again

I really am beginning to wonder if I am losing my mind from grief, or if Kate and Anna's murders have somehow made me come unglued. Maybe I've popped a gasket in my head, and what I'm seeing is something I wish I could see so badly that it is coming true. Or at least making me see a vision that seems real. Am I the only one who can see her?

Friends and family keep calling, leaving voice mail messages since the funeral. Checking up on me to see how I'm doing. "Please call me, Michael," my mother had said on the VM. She's 82 years old and she's worried about me. I'm the one who should be worried about her. She's in a condo all alone with that yappy little dog Kate insisted on getting her so she wouldn't feel lonely moving into a smaller place. Everytime I see that little rodent, I want to kick it across the room. Maybe then it will finally shut up.

Seems that work goes on without me. My boss called and said that they've gotten everything under control with the Johnson case, that I can come back to work when I'm ready. There's no rush, he said. Of course there's no rush to get me back. The new golden boy Anthony will run with my case that I'd built and win. I put the work into building the Johnson defense, finding the expert witnesses, collecting testimonies and lining all the ducks up in a row. Hell, I don't know how many long hours and endless days I've put into this firm hoping to make partner by the time I was 40. Then by 45. What's next? Wait until I'm 50? By then, it won't make a difference. I still can't believe that Kate and Anna are gone, and our dreams of an early retirement have vanished.

I'm too old to start over. Who's gonna want an overweight, balding workaholic who never had enough time for his family?