Chapter Nine #2
Lana Thompson was already on the steps when we came up, her red hair sharp against the pale stone in the morning light. She wore a dark blazer and had a leather portfolio tucked under one arm, and she looked at us both with the kind of attention that missed nothing.
“It’s good to see you,” she said, looking at Jade directly. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m here,” Jade said.
Lana nodded. “It will be over soon, and you won’t have to see him again.
” She went through what would happen in this hearing, including what Eric’s attorney was likely to try.
It sounded like she expected the exchange to be particularly nasty, so I knew I had to keep myself under control.
Lana spoke fast and without softening anything.
She was Jade’s lawyer. She treated Jade like someone capable of hearing the truth, which I respected. I listened to every word.
“His attorney will say you’re unstable,” Lana said. “He’ll try to frame this as a personal dispute between two adults, not a documented pattern of abuse. Expect that. Don’t react to it.” She looked at me this time, a clear message in her eyes. “Either of you.”
“Understood,” I said.
Inside, the wide corridor with marble floors made sound carry. Voices layered into each other off the high ceiling. I stayed close to Jade’s left shoulder without crowding her. She was managing. Barely, but managing.
Then her footsteps slowed. I followed her sightline across the corridor and found what had spooked her.
Eric stood about thirty feet away near a set of wooden benches, surrounded by three other people.
Two men in suits, a woman with a tablet.
He was tall, leanly built, and he wore his suit like it had been fitted for the specific purpose of walking into this room on this day and looking exactly right.
His hair was dark and perfectly cut. I supposed he could be considered handsome in most circles.
All I saw was a soft, privileged man who thought he could hurt people because he had enough money to buy his way out of whatever trouble came his way.
His gaze moved over the corridor in small sweeps that looked casual but weren’t.
I’d done the exact same sweep of my surroundings every day of my life in prison.
He read the room the same as I did, but for different reasons.
I knew what I was looking for. I thought I knew what he was looking for too.
His gaze found Jade. And he smiled a smile so filled with evil it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. He stared at Jade for three full seconds before he turned back to his attorney.
I moved to put my body between Jade and his line of sight.
I didn’t touch her. Just placed myself where I needed to be.
I heard her exhale very softly behind me before feeling her hand on my back.
I didn’t hesitate to reach behind me, finding her arm and sliding my palm down to grasp her hand and squeeze.
Eric’s attorney came to us. He was older than Eric by a good ten years, blond, with an expensive watch and the practiced ease of a man who’d had this conversation in a hundred different hallways. He addressed Lana first, which told me something about his read of the situation.
“Ms. Thompson. Always a pleasure.” He didn’t extend a hand. Neither did she. “We were hoping there might be an opportunity to resolve this before we go in. Conserve everyone’s time. My client is willing to discuss reasonable terms --”
“Ms. Harper has nothing to discuss,” Lana said.
“Perhaps Ms. Harper --”
“She doesn’t have anything to discuss,” Lana said again, the same words at exactly the same volume, with exactly the same expression, closing the door on the discussion.
The attorney shifted his attention to Jade. “Ms. Harper, I think if you consider the full picture here, you might find --”
“No.” Jade’s voice cracked on the single syllable, but she didn’t take it back.
The attorney looked at her for a beat, reassessing the situation. Then he smiled, tipped his head slightly, and walked back to his client.
Lana urged us toward the courtroom doors without a word. I followed, keeping Jade’s hand firmly in mine. She didn’t object. In fact, she squeezed my hand like a lifeline, which told me all I needed to know about what she needed from me.
It wasn’t long after that the big guns showed up.
In the form of my actual brother. Ethan didn’t acknowledge me as he stomped down the corridor to stand at Ms. Thompson’s side.
The look on his face told me all I needed to know about my little brother’s mood.
Good and pissed didn’t even begin to describe it.
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.