♛ ┇ ▒ ⋅⋅⋅ WALKER ENT. V. GREENFIELD CORP. ⋅⋅⋅ ▒ ┇♛

𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙀 𝙔𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙎 𝘼𝙂𝙊

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 wasn't much to look at. It was nearly impossible to guess that some of the wealthiest individuals in the city were within the cheapest place on the block.

Quinn's stepfather, Gil, was a banker. He was private about the workings of his job even with his immediate family. His wife, Marie, was probably the only person who knew the full extent of what he did for a living. He never intended for it to be a well-kept secret, he just wasn't very open about it.

That sort of unwillingness to share made Quinn all the more surprised when he called her into the master bedroom, which doubled as his office. He'd managed to negotiate with his boss, allowing him to work from home.

Most people who first met him thought he was scary – tall, muscular, and bald with icy blue eyes and sleeve tattoos down his arms. His family knew him as a kind and sensitive man. His workplace knew him as someone entirely different... Quinn hadn't been aware until that very day.

"Hey there, killer," he said with a smile.

She sat on the edge of the king-sized bed at the back of the room, a brow raised. "What's up?"

"Should I fire this guy?"

Seventeen-year-old Quinn blinked, meeting his gaze with hesitance and bewilderment. "I don't follow."

Gil swiveled his chair and moved it to the side. "Jan's been acting up again."

Quinn sighed in understanding. Her mother knew more about the inner workings of Gil's job, but she knew more about his subordinates. "Jeez. What'd he do now?"

"He started a fight," her stepfather replied, drumming his fingers on his thigh absentmindedly. "Third time this month. I spoke to him about it afterwards... he said he couldn't remember what the fight was about."

For a moment, there was just silence. Then, Quinn flopped down onto the bed, staring up at the lazily spinning ceiling fan. "He's the guy with the mental problems, right?"

"Yeah."

Quinn craned her neck up to look at him again. "Yeah."

Gil knew what she was saying. He rubbed his stubbled chin and turned back to his computer. "Guess that's that, then."

Quinn put her forearm over her forehead. "Why'd you ask me? I've never even had a job before. I can't imagine I'm the best consultant."

Gil rocked his head from side to side. "Don't sell yourself short. You're smart enough to do Jan's job for me. I'd hire you if I could get it past my boss." He snickered to himself.

"Well, finance isn't exactly my area of expertise," Quinn admitted, her head rolling to the side.

"Oh, he needs lawyers, too," Gil grinned.

"Doesn't everyone?"

Gil's brows bobbed up and down, a sign of agreement. "I was kidding, just now. This job... it's like swimming with sharks."

"It would be good practice, then," she quipped, getting to her feet and approaching his desk. "Though, I didn't know banking was so cutthroat."

Her stepfather let out a small grunt that meant nothing. Quinn gave him a one-armed hug. "Well, good luck," she said. "Hope Jan takes it well. Don't tell him a teenager had the final verdict on his... termination."

Jan's chuckle followed her out of the room. As she shut the office door, her smile faded slightly.

Had she really just done that? She was sure that Gil had other factors to consider, but it certainly felt like she'd just completely changed or destroyed someone's life without even seeing their face. She'd never even heard Jan's voice. She didn't know him outside of Gil's mildly irritated, mildly concerned statements.

His existence was a blank spot in her memory, but she didn't think it was possible to forget him. Her stepfather was more than serious about his job – he was a capable manager who knew the business like the back of his hand, but he never let anyone walk over him. Jan had been an exception because of his own mental problems, but...

Quinn forcibly shook her head to clear her thoughts. He was probably going to fire the guy anyway. No way he'd leave such an important decision up to a girl who hadn't even faced adulthood yet.

She couldn't shake it, though. She knew that in her future, she'd be wading through shark-filled waters, but she never considered for a second what she'd have to do if she was culling the sea.

Because Quinn Whitaker was a great many things, but she wasn't sure a killer was one of them.

⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅ ┇♛┇⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅

𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘿𝘼𝙔

This was the day she'd been waiting for: depositions. And yet, she found herself filled with an overbearing sense of unease. Quinn tried to tell herself that this was just like cross-examination in her sophomore speech and debate class.

Dammit, she scolded herself. You've done this before, alright? You crushed it in those mock trials at Harvard. You've argued with your mom over less than this. You've written out every eventuality for this deposition, and all of them point towards a big, hefty billable for Louis Litt and Pearson Hardman.

So why did her hands still shake? She clenched her fists and drew them tight into her lap, looking at the woman on the other end of the table.

Emily Reed. Curly blonde hair that fell around her face in ringlets, thick glasses, warm brown skin and a worried look in her eyes that mirrored Quinn's. She was the first of many depositions that were to be held in the following week. She was the manager of the energy project, and Quinn would be lying if she said she had been expecting someone so demure.

Louis' fiery expression didn't help much, either. Emily's lawyer was running just a bit late, and Quinn had a feeling that he'd received the wrong directions to the conference room. The case was already a surefire win, so this extra step just felt a little... cruel.

Emily swallowed hard and said nothing, probably under instruction from her attorney not to say much at all. Lest they use it against her in a court of law. Quinn wanted to tell her that they wouldn't even make it to court, but her jaw felt like it was glued shut.

She had no clue who this woman was. She had a name, a face, an occupation, and what else? What food did she like? Was she the kind of person who corrected a waiter if they got her order wrong? Did she like cats or dogs or birds? Did she have a spouse? Children?

What was her story? So often, Quinn found herself trying to conjure up a background for strangers on the street or the people in the bullpen. But now, staring down a woman that was probably going to take the fall for this entire case... there was nothing.

Quinn didn't know her story. She only knew how it was going to end. It made her sick. It made her think of Jan.

It made her pissed at Harold, who had yet to show up for work to handle the settlement drafting. She regretted not getting his number when they'd had dinner together, but it was too late to think about that now.

It was way too late.

The lawyer burst into the room, his face scrunched up and tomato-red. He glowered at Louis, who arched a brow in his direction. "Well, what took you so long?"

"You – you –" The attorney sputtered.

"Sit down, Mr. Daniels," Louis gestured to the seat adjacent to Emily. "Why you think you can waste our time here is beyond me."

Daniels pulled out the chair and sat down in it, eyeing Quinn. He seemed to latch onto the fact that she was clearly the junior in this dynamic, and sneered in her direction.

Quinn's eye twitched, and Louis leaned forward and laced his fingers on the table. "Well? Let's get started."

The camera on the table was activated with a few short clicks, and with each one, Emily got paler and paler, which shouldn't have been possible for someone with her skin tone, but Quinn could see the color draining from her face.

She knew. She knew that Greenfield was guilty. She knew that she was the patsy here. She knew her life was over.

And not for the first time, Quinn had unwittingly taken it upon herself to write another person's ending.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
Our first official scene
break and our first official
flashback!

My sincerest apologies for
the hiatus. If it wasn't
apparent, I'm getting ready
for college. It's not

I hope this peek into Quinn's
psyche is enough to
satiate you lovely readers
until the next update.

Did I scare any of you
with the chapter name? No?

That's too bad! If you wanna
see more of my writing,
go check out
NON OMNIS MORIAR,
my lovely Dean Winchester X OC
fanfic! Give it some
love! 💜