Baden (Pittsburgh Titans 1)

Collapsing, Sophie mutters, “Please tell me it will always be that good.”

“Better,” I rasp. Because I know damn well it will get better and better. In fact, I can’t wait for the next time and the next. I’m thinking beds will be broken and neighbors might get testy from the noise we’ll make.

At least that’s my vision for how life will be when we return to Pittsburgh.

As Sophie lies boneless on top of me, I lift my arm to check the time on my watch. I sigh with regret because we’re going to have to move soon.

I have to get down to the district attorney’s office, and I’m not sure where Sophie’s going. She’ll either head to the airport, or she’ll change her flight and go with me so we can tell our stories.

“How do you feel?” I ask, smoothing my hand along her lower back.

“Delightful,” she mumbles against my neck.

“Good,” I reply and roll her off me. I go to my elbow, hovering over her. “Because we should talk about what else we need to do so we can move on from all the bad stuff.”

Her eyes cloud over. “You mean, giving my victim impact statement.”

I nod solemnly. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

CHAPTER 23

Baden

This was not what I was expecting when Sophie and I arrived at the DA’s office. I was so proud of her decision to give her statement, and as we walked hand in hand to the courthouse, I felt her strength and confidence by the way she held my hand and in her stride.

I assured her it wouldn’t be overly stressful since we’d basically be giving our statements to the DA, who would record us and then submit video to the court at the time the plea deals were entered. We were originally told that the wheels of justice aren’t well oiled enough for any plea deals to be ironed out so quickly.

This helped Sophie decide, as she didn’t want to face a lot of people and talk about such a private part of her life.

Unfortunately, when we showed up, apparently those cogs had undergone some sort of lube job because the young prosecuting attorney, Angela DuBose, was atwitter that she was able to get Henry Camarino’s plea deal pushed through. It was set to be heard before a judge in open court.

This morning.

In other words, our victim impact statements would be made to a judge in a public courtroom setting where anyone could attend.

I expected Sophie to refuse to participate, and if she chose to bolt, I wasn’t going to fight her on it. It was enough that she had the guts to come here, but in fairness to her, this is not what she’d mentally prepared for.

To my surprise, Sophie asked the prosecuting attorney some very pointed questions about what she could expect, how many people would be watching, and would the defendant actually be present.

She soaked in the answers, and I was further surprised when she said she wanted to go ahead.

The courtroom isn’t packed by any means as we wait for the judge. A few attorneys mill about, including Ms. DuBose who will be handling all the criminal cases on the docket today, already seated at a table before the judge’s bench. A handful of people sit in the rows that extend back to the double doors. I assume they’re victims like me and Sophie, or perhaps family members here to support some of the defendants.

As I look around, I wonder if any of them are here to support the man who will soon be pleading guilty to attacking us.

A door behind the judge’s bench opens, and a bailiff steps through, followed by the judge. “All rise,” the bailiff calls out in a booming voice. “The Honorable Petra M. Dobrovsky presiding.”

Sophie and I stand, one row back from the DA, and remain that way until the judge takes her seat and we’re told we can sit.

For the next fifteen minutes, Ms. DuBose calls out cases for pleas. Sometimes the defendants are in the courtroom spectator seats and approach through the swinging gate where they plead not guilty and request a court-appointed attorney.

In some cases, defense attorneys are already involved, and they do most of the talking for their clients.

Some defendants are held somewhere behind the courtroom and brought through another door, wearing jail scrubs in a dull taupe with slip-on shoes. Some wear handcuffs, and others are cuffed at both wrists and ankles.

I listen attentively while holding Sophie’s hand.

After accepting a plea deal in a shoplifting case for a young woman and sentencing her to probation and community service, Judge Dobrovsky announces, “That appears to be everything on the docket.”

Angela DuBose stands from her seat. “Your Honor, your clerk actually added one more item to your docket this morning. The State versus Henry James Camarino.”