Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Inside, the gallery was still nearly empty. Eric and his attorney sat at the table on the right while Ethan and Lana took Jade to the one on the left. I took a chair in the gallery directly behind Jade. Close enough I could reach up and squeeze her shoulder if she needed the reassurance.
The proceedings moved through their opening formalities. I watched Eric sit at his table, settling back in his chair as if getting comfortable to watch an enjoyable show. I’d seen men perform innocence in courtrooms before. Usually, they oversold it. Eric didn’t. He let his attorney do the work and contributed only when he’d been instructed.
His attorney addressed the judge with the easy familiarity of a man who’d appeared in this room before and made favorable impressions. Also, like he fully expected that, no matter what happened, the judge would side in his favor.
“Your Honor, what we have here is a personal relationship that ended badly,” he said. “My client has been subjected to an escalating campaign of harassment and false accusation from a former partner who has struggled, by her own admission to her therapist, with emotional instability --”
I clenched my jaw, glancing at my brother. Ethan sat there, that same intensely angry expression on his face. I willed him to say something, to stop this guy, but my brother said nothing.
“-- and vindictive behavior following the dissolution of their relationship. The alleged incidents, Your Honor, occurred in a context of mutual conflict. Miss Harper was not a passive party. She was, in several documented instances, the instigator of the confrontations she now characterizes as assault.” He paused to let that little remark land. “She provoked --”
I had to stop listening for a moment as I clenched my fists so tightly my knuckles cracked. I didn’t move or make a sound, not wanting to distress Jade any more than I knew she already was. Besides, I couldn’t become exactly what Eric’s attorney would love me to be. An ex-con being visibly threatening in a court of law. I’d be handing them something they would use against her.
Jade walked to the stand, her shoulders hunched, head down. I tracked every step from my seat in the gallery. She settled into the chair and set her hands in her lap, her gaze focused on Lana, and waited.
I’d already heard everything Lana had Jade recount today. In fact, I’d heard more. Unless I missed my guess, Jade hadn’t told Lana about Eric goading her to commit suicide. If Jade had intentionally not told her lawyer, I could understand. I just wondered if Ms. Thompson had refrained from saying anything out of fear the judge might order Jade to a psychiatric facility.
Lana presented the medical records. I couldn’t see them from where I sat, but I watched the judge’s face when the first exhibit was entered. Lana described each document in clear, flat language. Two ER visits documented under different explanations. Three separate physician notes expressing concern. The photographs came next. Lana described each one without inflection, naming the injuries. Jade sat with her gaze fixed on a middle distance and didn’t look at the photographs being discussed as if looking at them would break the wall she’d carefully constructed around her.
The threatening text messages were read aloud by the clerk. Short sentences, most of them that sounded almost reasonable by themselves, but became something different when you viewed them back-to-back. The last one had been sent four hours after she’d been admitted to the hospital, telling her to call the police. See what happened to her then.
I fixed my gaze on Jade, willing her to look at me, to take support from me the only way she could right now. She had her focus on Lana, though. Which I understood. But she’d need me soon. I knew she would. Could see it in the way sweat dotted her upper lip and her hairline. She rode the edge of her control almost as close as I did my own.
When she described the night that led to her hospital stay and subsequent move to Haven, her facade started to crack. When she started describing that particular night, her words came slower and her voice wavered. She stopped once, mid-sentence, and didn’t start again for several seconds as she looked down at her hands. I didn’t focus on her words -- I’d already heard the raw and unfiltered version and didn’t think I could control my temper with the bastard who’d hurt her in the same room. Unguarded. Where I could break his neck before anyone could even think to take some kind of action.
I leaned forward slightly as she sat there, staring at her hands in her lap. I could see her working to select her words and not finding them. Her mouth opened and closed several times, tears glistening in her eyes as she sat there, seemingly paralyzed.