She sprawled into her seat, and the judge raised a brow at her.
She flushed.
“Okay, you’re up, Mr. Foley.”
“Mr. Tramaine, can you tell us a little bit about your sleep? I noticed you told Mr. El Dorado that you weren’t sleeping well.”
“I actually have some printouts,” he said. “I use a ring that tracks my sleep and health. I can show you these and you can see exactly when I wake up when those stupid sounds go off in the middle of the night.”
The judge turned to look where his sleep study was put onto the large screen to the right of us.
Everyone turned to survey it, and I noted several spots where you could see that REM was disturbed.
If he was even in REM.
Most of the time he was in the lighter version of sleep.
Which was dangerous to your health.
It was okay for short term, but long term? That was bad.
“I am irritable, can’t take naps. My job performance is suffering. My wife had to move in with our daughter!”
I listened as several other residents from the same area came up and told their stories.
All of them had the same stories.
After the fourth identical one, the judge called for lunch and everyone was let out.
Since lunch was provided for the jurors, I hadn’t intended to go out to lunch today like I had yesterday.
I held the door open for damn near everyone as I exited, wondering how I’d gotten stuck with the task.
As I got up to the line, the little shit in front of me took both of the last sandwiches, tossing me a haughty look over her shoulder.
I rolled my eyes, studied what was left of the table, and decided the sub shop down the road was close and fast enough.
When I got back, everyone was already in place, so I took my seat and listened to the rest of the same old, same old.
Thankfully, we ended the day slightly early, and I could skip out.
My phone had been buzzing in my pocket for an hour now.
I pulled it out and sighed as I got a good look at the readout.
My assistant, Moses.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“We got a hot one,” he said. “Dead teen. You think you can get here?”
I looked at my watch. “Sure thing.”
This time I didn’t try to hold the door for everyone. I just walked out, very aware of the woman practically running behind me trying to keep up with me.
As I left, I pushed through the doors, letting them swing closed on the woman stomping out from behind me.
When she followed me all the way to my bike, I finally looked back at her.
