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My eyes grow wide. That’s it. That’s what I’ll tell the judge. I’ll tell the judge about what great friends Cathy and Trisha were and convince her that Cathy would never have hurt my sister. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to convince Cathy, too.
I slip the bracelet back under Maisie’s pillow and quietly leave her room.
It’s time for me to get Cathy back.
~
When I get to the courtroom, Cathy is already there, dressed in a grey blazer over a black and white dress. The moment I see her honey hair, a smile coats my lips. It turns upside down, though, when I see the circles under her eyes and realize that she’s already lost weight in the span of just several days. This whole ordeal must be harder on her than I thought.
When our eyes meet, hers grow wide. My heart leaps from my chest, seemingly pulling me towards her so I can feel her next to me and wrap my arms around her. When she turns away, though, my heart sinks all the way to my feet, keeping them in place. The frustration of not being able to hold her in my arms drops from my shoulders to my hands, which curl into fists.
I pull my gaze away from her and it falls on the judge’s podium at the front of the room instead. The sight sobers me.
Right. I can’t really go to Cathy right now, and she can’t really talk to me even if she wants to. We’re in a courtroom, involved in a case which has to be dealt with before either of us can move forward.
From the corner of my eye, I see Cathy’s mother. She waves and gives me a smile. I can tell she wants me to sit with her in the row behind Cathy but I simply nod and take a seat on the opposite side, two rows back. I can chat with her later, but for now, I have to fulfill my role as a witness for the prosecution.
I unbutton my suit jacket before I sit. As I slip my hands into the pockets, I gaze at the empty table ahead. Moments later, two men occupy it, one who looks like he’s halfway through his sixties and another in his early forties. The younger man wears a suit, the older a khaki jacket over a red and white plaid shirt. A woman in a black dress and coat takes her place beside Cathy. I’m guessing she’s Cathy’s lawyer. Then the court officials enter the room.
“Evidentiary hearing for the manslaughter charge against Cathy Jeffries now in session,” one of them announces. “The honorable Judge Diana Vaughn presiding. All rise.”
I stand up with the rest of the people in the room, then sit down after the judge, a woman with short salt and pepper hair and gold eyeglasses, takes her seat. She calls the lawyers to her podium for a word. Then the old man is called to the stand.
He limps his way there and states his name – Gary Pitts. His hand trembles slightly as he raises it to swear that he’ll tell the truth. His features look pained.
Why? Doesn’t he want to be here? Then again, I suppose no one does.
The prosecutor, who looks more relaxed – I guess he does want to be here – stands in front of Mr. Pitts.
“I’ll go straight to the point here. Mr. Pitts, can you tell the court why we’re here – what you saw at around 10:30 on the night of July 16, 2008?”
Mr. Pitts glances at Cathy, then turns to the prosecutor.
“I saw two teenage girls swimming in the lake,” he says. “I remember thinking it was foolish of them, but then most teens are.”
“Mr. Pitts, kindly stick to the facts and keep your opinions to yourself unless asked for,” the judge says.
He nods. “One of the girls had dark brown hair, the other lighter brown. They weren’t just swimming. They were playing, splashing around. Then they stopped. I think they started drowning.”
“You didn’t try to help them?” the prosecutor asks.
I was wondering the same thing.
“I wanted to, but my leg was bad even then. If I had tried to help them, I would have drowned.”
“What happened next?”
“The girls tried to swim to the shore. One of them, the one with light brown hair, was panicking more than the other. She pushed the other girl’s head under the water.”
Chapter 19
Cathy
I clutch my skirt as my heart stops. Behind me, I hear my mother gasp.
No. It can’t be.
“She kept pushing the other girl’s head down as they swam to shore,” Mr. Pitts goes on.
Each of his words feels like a dagger being plunged into my heart.
“When she got to shore, the other girl was no longer moving.”
I clasp both hands over my mouth to hold back a sob. My stomach churns. I feel the weight of a hand on my shoulder and another on my back, but otherwise I feel numb.
