Chapter 17
Wednesday late morning
The courtroom settled as they returned.
Bay walked in first this time, flanked by the bailiff, her posture straighter than before. Vale followed and sat next to her at the table.
Sabre remained standing, not far from Bay.
“We’re back on the record,” the clerk announced. “People versus Mercer.”
Judge Hammouri looked down from the bench, her expression tight. “Mr. Vale, are you willing to accept this case?”
He stood. “Yes, Your Honor. However, I’ve had the opportunity to speak further with my client, along with Ms. Brown, and—”
Thirty minutes hadn’t changed the judge’s attitude, and she interrupted him. “I’ve made my decision.”
The courtroom stilled.
“Mr. Vale, you are still appointed as counsel of record. Ms. Brown will not be appointed.”
Bay’s head snapped toward the bench. “No—”
The judge lifted a hand. “You will remain quiet.”
“She has to—”
“You do not get to choose your attorney,” Judge Hammouri snapped.
Bay shook her head, panic rising again. “You don’t understand—”
“I understand perfectly,” the judge cut in. “You have competent counsel standing beside you.” She nodded toward Vale. “And he will represent you.”
Bay looked desperately at Sabre. Sabre didn’t intervene. She knew once the judge made her decision, she wasn’t going to change it.
Hammouri continued. “It would be different if Ms. Brown had represented you previously. But neither the court nor Ms. Brown has found any record of that. Have you Ms. Brown?”
“No, Your Honor, but—”
The judge interrupted again. “There is no basis for appointment.”
Ethan cleared his throat. “Your Honor—”
The judge looked at him. “Yes?”
“Would the court allow Ms. Brown to assist in some capacity?”
Judge Hammouri considered the request for a few seconds. “Ms. Brown may assist you in any way you deem appropriate. Informally. But she will not be counsel of record.”
Vale nodded. “Understood, Your Honor.”
Hammouri turned her attention to Bay. Her tone was even more direct. “Ms. Mercer, I want to be clear that you understand what is happening.”
Bay kept her eyes on Sabre.
“Look at me.”
Slowly, Bay turned to face the judge.
“You are represented by Mr. Vale,” the judge said. “He is your attorney. Do you understand that?”
Bay’s eyes flicked once toward Sabre. “Yes.”
Judge Hammouri held her gaze. “You do not get to refuse representation just because he is not your preferred attorney.”
Bay’s jaw tightened. “But I can still talk to her.”
“You may speak with whomever your attorney permits.” Then, more pointed. “But Mr. Vale is the one you can confide in and share the attorney-client privilege with. You must talk to him if you want him to be able to defend you. Do you understand?”
Bay swallowed and nodded.
“I need a verbal response.”
“Yes.”
Judge Hammouri leaned back. “Good.” She glanced between Vale, Sabre, and Bay as if measuring them. “Mr. Vale, I expect you to move this case forward.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And I expect your client to cooperate.”
Bay didn’t answer.
The judge didn’t push it. “This is a detention hearing,” she said. “How does your client want to plead?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor,” Vale said.
“Is that correct, Ms. Mercer?” the judge asked.
“Yes.”
The judge took the plea and set a date for the next hearing. “We are adjourned on this matter.”
The participants began to move again with chair noises, papers rustling, and voices returning. But at the counsel table, Bay stood still. When the bailiff approached her, she turned and looked at Sabre, like she was recalculating.
Sabre met Bay’s gaze. Now the lines were clear. Vale had the case because the court had decided. But Sabre was still involved, just not in a way anyone could control. At least, she hoped that had been accomplished.