I’d been home two days and I had yet to see my parents. I couldn’t tell if it’d been because I was practically living in my bed, more depressed than I could have ever imagined missing Ian, or because they couldn’t be bothered to come by and see me even though I’d been gone for months.
My heartfelt heavy the morning of the second, knowing I would have to appear in court, in front of Reinhold. I woke, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, not giving a crap. I knew I would be thrown in jail that day. This was the moment Reinhold had been waiting for.
The courtroom was exactly as I remembered it. Cold and desolate and devoid of hope. It felt as if my breath was sucked from my chest the second I placed a foot inside. I met Pembrook as his table and sat.
“This is a simple hearing,” he told me, arranging his satchel on the table. He poured me a glass of water and set it down in front of me. “The judge will state what you’re accused of and you will enter a plea, which, of course, will be a “not guilty”. I advise you not to say a word.”
“Pembrook,” I told him, taking in his stark appearance, “for once, can you not act as my “attorney” here?”
He smiled gently. “Stay quiet, love. I’ll take care of everything.”
This made my heart ache but I nodded my consent. Take care of everything. Everything but the everything I want back.
Reinhold stepped into the room, his robes billowing out from behind him. Immediately, I wanted to vomit.
“All rise,” the bailiff said, “This court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Francis Reinhold presiding.”
Reinhold sat and we followed suit. He began to filter through paper documents behind his bench and the quiet was deafening. My hands began to shake so I tucked them into my sides and stared at my feet. I glimpsed behind me when the doors opened and Spencer walked in, waving and sitting on a bench directly behind me. He was the only presence there but it was comforting enough that it allowed my body to calm a bit. I was still shaking but the nausea was gone.
“Sophie Price,” Reinhold’s voice boomed. He looked right at me and pierced me with a penetrating gaze, “You’re accused of violating the terms of your sentence. How do you plea?”
Pembrook and I stood. “My client pleads not guilty,” Pembrook announced.
“I see. What say you, Prosecution?”
“Your Honor,” the prosecutor said, addressing the court, “we move to dismiss Miss Price as time served.”
My breath whooshed from my lungs all at once I began to choke. Pembrook comically slapped at my back to get me to breathe, shrugging toward Reinhold. Reinhold pinned me with a look that screamed check yourself! I coughed back my choking and pinned my lips together.
“Would you care to explain?” he asked the prosecutor.
“Yes, we’d like to call a witness to the stand, Your Honor.”
“Were you aware of this?” he asked Pemmy.
“No, Your Honor.”
“And do you object?”
“If the prosecution moves to dismiss then my client and I are comfortable with their witness.”
Reinhold was quiet for a moment, contemplating whether he would allow the witness and I held my breath.
“Proceed,” he said. “You may sit, Defense.”
Pembrook and I sat.
“Pemmy, who is it?” I asked under my breath.
“I’ve honestly no idea,” he said
Just then, the doors opened and I thought my eyes were deceiving me. I blinked slowly before wiping my eyes. When I reopened them, I discovered what I’d only thought was an illusion.
Ian.
I’d stood and begun to run toward him but Pemmy stayed me with an arm. He shook his head back and forth and I was forced to sit. Seeing him for the first time since I’d left felt incredible yet overwhelming. I needed his touch but simultaneously, I was so afraid he still meant what he’d said. I didn’t want to know but I was desperate to know at the same time.
He moved toward the witness stand with only a brief glance my direction, spearing me in the gut. When he approached the witness stand, the bailiff approached him, bible in hand.