Chapter 2
I’m certainly not one to make judgments on the clothes anyone wears.
I only recently started dressing nicely so as to not embarrass Amaya, because as an investigator, I’m part of her legal team, and I have to interact with real people and extract information from them.
I can’t hide in my taxi anymore. Besides, people are much less likely to give over valuable video footage to someone who is wearing their brother’s old, oversized Knicks jersey and their Ammi’s eighties harem pants.
I need to look professional now, so I thrift sensible J.Crew sweaters and slacks.
Amaya once joked I was copying her look.
People always mistake us for sisters, and I take it as a compliment.
Amaya’s dark hair is always less frizzy, her smile always a little brighter, and she’s just generally more put-together, so if I’ve tricked anyone into thinking we’re similar, I’m doing something right.
I do make an effort to put my own spin on things.
Today’s spin is sneakers with a bright pink streak.
They look like those two-hundred-dollar sneakers, but I thrifted them for ten bucks.
Alex says it’s gross to wear someone else’s shoes, but that’s probably because Alex can afford fancy new kicks.
Despite the loss of his super-fancy tech job fourteen months ago, his status as a convicted criminal of fraud, and the money taken from him as a result of said criminal activity, my best friend still manages to be way richer than me.
It’s with this nonjudgmental attitude—or at least me trying to have a nonjudgmental attitude—that I look at our client Lucy’s criminal paperwork.
Lucy is charged with stalking, which I must admit is pretty exciting.
Yes, stalking is bad and scary. People shouldn’t do it.
But maybe Lucy didn’t do it. Besides, most of the crimes Amaya picks up are gang-related shootings and garden-variety burglaries.
I’d never dismiss the seriousness of these crimes and the people accused of said crimes who are facing years in prison, but they aren’t always that unique.
I want to investigate the cases my podcast covers.
I want intrigue, mystery, and suspense, and maybe this stalking case has all those elements.
Who is she accused of stalking? A lover who turned his back?
Maybe the man she’s stalking is actually stalking her?
All of my thoughts go out the window when I see Lucy.
She’s wearing a jumpsuit embellished with thousands of rhinestones, and it’s certainly not what I expected.
Maybe it’s Lucy’s rhinestone-embellished jumpsuit that’s making me feel like she’s less of a stalker and more of a backup dancer in a seventies disco musical.
We move toward the back of the courthouse to the dark and dusty prison cells that hold people waiting to see the judge.
No matter how many times I sit back there, in the dirt and grime, I can’t erase the memories of when I was on the other side as a person accused of a heinous crime that I didn’t do.
Only a little over a year ago, I was in Lucy’s position, sitting in a cell next to other women accused of crimes.
It’s a reminder to never judge the people before me and to never assume that I know the truth of the matter without proper investigation.
It is, after all, investigations that are one of the most important parts of criminal case—especially at the beginning when the clues are still fresh.
“Hi, my name is Amaya Fernando. I’m the attorney representing you on your case,” Amaya announces warmly.
Amaya is always kind to her clients. I experienced this firsthand when she represented me after I was wrongfully accused of killing my passenger.
Amaya continued to investigate even when she was sure I was guilty.
After all, it was just me and the dude in my locked cab.
Amaya shrugs this off as “just doing her job” but I know it’s more than that.
She cares deeply for the people who come before her, ensnared in the legal system, devoid of a voice—literally, because they are not allowed to talk in court.
They must talk through their attorney, a job Amaya takes very seriously.
“And this is Siriwathi Perera.”
This is the part where I would stick out my hand for a handshake, but the metal grate that separates me and Amaya from Lucy prevents that. It’s a hard way to have any conversation, let alone one that may change the trajectory of someone’s life.
We both sit down and face Lucy.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Amaya asks gently.
“I didn’t do it. I’m not guilty,” Lucy says firmly.
And with that, the case begins.