Colton rose, smoothing his tie, his expression intense as he approached for cross-examination.
“Dr. Burgess, you testified that Olivia Taylor’s skin cells were found under Mr. Donovan’s fingernails. Can you specify how many cells were discovered?”
Dr. Burgess hesitated for a brief moment before answering. “It was only a few cells—one or two, to be precise.”
“So, not entire swatches of skin like one would find after a battle, correct?”
“No, only a few cells.”
“What scenario could explain their presence under the victim’s fingernails?”
“Well, self-defense is the most common scenario where we find skin under a victim’s fingernails.”
“In your professional opinion, could the presence of just a couple of cells be explained by a less violent interaction—say, a kiss?” Colton threw me a quick, dark glance. I shivered. “Or an embrace? Lovemaking, perhaps?”
“Objection, Your Honor! Leading the witness.”
“Overruled.” Antunez turned toward the coroner. “You may answer, Doctor.”
“The minimal number of cells could be consistent with casual contact, like during a kiss or an embrace. It doesn’t necessarily indicate a struggle.”
A wave of whispers moved through the courtroom, a mix of surprise and doubt lingering like a dark shadow. Colton didn’t miss the shift in energy. He nodded, satisfied.
“Dr. Burgess, considering the number of cells found, would you say this scenario is more likely or less likely than self-defense?”
“More likely,” the coroner replied without a hint of hesitation. “Definitely more likely.”
“No more questions, Your Honor.”
I closed my eyes and saw myself in that elevator, Winston’s hands in my hair, pulling me close—
“I said no tears,” Colton whispered coldly in my ear as he took his seat.
I touched my face with the tips of my fingers, making the tears disappear while Dr. Burgess vacated the stand. I wanted to scream at Colton, to ask why he couldn’t forgive me. But I already knew theanswer. In his words, I was the one he still loved. Finding out what I’d done must’ve gutted him. The damage was beyond repair.
“The prosecution calls Avery Sinclair,” Mitchell’s strong voice announced.
A flicker of a smile landed on the prosecutor’s lips when our eyes met. I looked away, following Colton’s instructions, and fixed my gaze on the seal above the judge’s head while the bratty teenager was sworn in. Bracing myself for one more piece of evidence that would reveal premeditation in targeting Winston, I kept a stoic appearance.
Soon, it would be all over.
And those twelve people sitting in the jury box could decide that the world would be a better place without me in it.
49
Malice
Avery Sinclair’s eyes glinted with resentment when he looked at me from the witness stand. His gaze spread ice through my veins. I pretended to look elsewhere, but I could still see him staring at me, obsessed and fixated, seething. He wasn’t there to tell the truth and nothing but the truth; he was there to destroy me.
ADA Mitchell approached the stand, his voice gentle but firm. “Avery, thank you for being here today. Can you tell the court how you know the defendant, Olivia Taylor?”
Avery gripped the edges of the witness stand, white knuckled. “She used to date my dad, Alan Sinclair, when she lived in Seattle. But back then, she went by a different name—Melanie Gates.”
Whispers swept through the courtroom. The revelation of my false identity was a bombshell felt by everyone, and especially the jurors.
Mitchell nodded. “Can you tell us more about what happened during that time?”
Avery’s voice hardened. “She wrecked my family. My mom and dad were happy before she showed up. Then everything changed. My dad was so into her, he didn’t even notice how she was playing him. When my mom found out about Melanie—about Olivia—she left him. Theygot divorced, and my whole life just fell apart. She ruined everything. And she didn’t even care.”
