“Counsel, please approach,” Antunez said, that frown deeper than ever.
“What the hell?” Colton murmured, then stepped over to the bench. Mitchell looked just as puzzled.
Their conversation was barely audible, but I caught a few things.
“I will not have my courtroom turned into a circus,” the judge was saying. “Mr. Mitchell, you might not care if you put an innocent person on death row just to notch another win, but that’s not how I uphold the law. Let the facts and the evidence speak unaltered, and the jury will decide the case on its merit. Is that clear?”
Mitchell leaned forward. “Your Honor, I don’t quite understand—”
“The stunt you pulled earlier, accusing the defendant’s brother of murder just to throw a catchy line for the jury’s entertainment, almost landed you in contempt. And you nearly did it again with Dr. Leishman, cutting her off when it suited you. Next time it happens, it’s a ten thousand dollar fine and a public reprimand that will go on your record.”
“Your Honor, opposing counsel can always object—”
“You’ve been warned, Mr. Mitchell. Step back.”
The counselors returned to their seats. Mitchell seemed thunderstruck, and Colton remained serious, but his eyes glinted with satisfaction when he looked at me.
Justice Antunez picked up the gavel. “We’re breaking for lunch until one thirty. We’re adjourned.”
The loud crack of the gavel ignited a shifting tide of whispers and shuffled papers. The door opened with a squeak, and outside, someone loudly invited another person out for tacos.
As the jury left the courtroom, I glanced at them, trying to gauge their states of mind. Some didn’t look at me, seeming more preoccupied with one another or just with themselves. One woman looked at me with pity, but a disdainful grimace of her mouth told me she still believed I was a murderer. A tall, balding man frowned when our eyes met. Another woman looked at me with unguarded disgust curling her lip.
Nothing mattered to them. Not the testimonies heard, not the evidence, not any reasonable doubt Colton had worked so hard to instill. They were still going to find me guilty.
It jarred me, hitting hard and leaving me off balance. Desperate.
I remained seated, too drained to move. Leaning over the table, I rested my head on my folded arms and closed my eyes while Colton spoke with an assistant nearby.
“Look at me,” a woman’s voice said, startling me.
I raised my head and opened my eyes. Evelyn stood next to the defense table, her demeanor fierce and unforgiving. I had to look away, ashamed.
“No, look at me, Olivia,” she insisted. She lifted my chin with her fingers until our eyes met.
I filled my lungs with air, bracing for what she had to say. She must’ve been so disappointed with me after that night we’d spent at the Illuminate gala, so frustrated with my lies.
“I’m sorry, Evelyn, I didn’t—”
“Oh, shut it,” she said. There wasn’t a single trace of scorn in her voice. “They weren’t all born into it, you know.” She let go of my chin and stroked my cheek lightly before propping her hand on her hip.
“What are you talking about?”
“Wealth, of course,” she replied. “Money. Status. Some had to fight tooth and nail for what they have. Including me. Including the late Winston Donovan himself and that cold-blooded wife of his. So, screw them if they give you the stink eye. I can think of quite a few people who belong where you sit, my dear. You know some, too.”
Her words rendered me speechless, so that I had to fight the burn of tears in my eyes. “Thank you,” I eventually whispered.
Evelyn smiled. “If you have to go down for this, go down fighting like hell. That’s what I’d do.” She placed a quick smooch on my cheek, then laughed quietly. “You’re no murderer, dearie. I know one when I see one.”
She walked away, her back straight and her head held up high, waving at me without turning her head. Her heels clacked loudly in the almost empty courtroom.
“What was that about?” Colton asked.
“I’m . . . not really sure.”
53
An Expert
