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I didn’t get up to leave. I just sat there, staring at the empty courtroom.
“Reed?” Dad called out.
I looked up to find him and my sister standing, their coats already on.
“Sorry,” I replied, shaking off my shock. “I’m lost in my head.”
And that was a scary fucking place to be right now.
It went on like that for two days.
Witnesses, cross-examinations, evidence, arguments.
I could barely sleep or eat. Or speak. My dad and sister were the same.
We sat on those hard wooden benches in the courtroom for hours and listened to every minute of the proceedings. By the time we reached the end of the second day, everyone’s nerves were frazzled.
The press had caught on that I was in town and the few local reporters were now outnumbered by the more aggressive media from the city.
It was bad enough that my family and I had to live through this. Having cameras shoved in our faces didn’t help.
Tate had texted and called, usually first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Hearing his voice gave me the strength to walk back into that courtroom.
As much as I wanted Tate here with me, I realized that it was better that he wasn’t. My celebrity was drawing enough media attention as it was, but the two of us here would have created a frenzy.
After the weekend break, we were back on Monday for the third day of the trial.
The day Saks was taking the stand.
And that’s when my sanity threatened to derail.
The prosecutor had warned us that it wasn’t common for the accused to take the stand. Which gave me a bad feeling. If his defense lawyers were confident enough to put him up there, they had to reason to think he might sway the jury.
“Mr. Saks, tell us what you remember about the morning of April 19?”
“Not much, unfortunately. I’d been self-medicating with alcohol, prescription pain killers, and illegal drugs since the night before.”
“And why is that?”
Saks sighed and licked his lips. “I injured my head just over a year ago in a boating accident. And I became severely depressed as a result.”
“So, you do admit that you were intoxicated that morning?”
“Yes.”
I was confused. He was admitting to being drunk and high but he was pleading not guilty?
“And you got into your car that morning and drove into town?”
“I left the bar at two AM and checked into a nearby motel first.”
“And proceeded to take drugs? Prescription painkillers and ecstasy, to be specific.”
“Yes.”
The prosecutor leaned on the divider, facing Saks.
“Did you sleep?”
