“Did she force Alec Bannerman into the car?”
“Objection.”
“I’ll withdraw the question, your honor.”
I lean my head on Banner’s shoulder as the prosecutor keeps poking the chief.
“Did Alec get in the vehicle at the same time as Miss Wells?”
“No. He chased the car down the street before jumping into the passenger seat.”
“The car in question was a Jeep Wrangler, 1997?”
“Yes. The doors had been removed, which made it easier for Alec to jump inside.”
I flash back to that day. I can still hear the wind howling, the rain pelting the windscreen so hard the wipers couldn’t keep up. I didn’t care about any of it. The smell of blood in the air overrode every one of my senses. All I knew was I had to get tothe hospital. Nothing else mattered. Maybe everyone was right, and I shouldn’t have been behind the wheel, but I was beyond rational thinking by then. I was in full-on survival mode, and then Alec jumped in and grabbed the wheel, sealing both our fates.
“How long after Alec jumped in the car did it crash?”
“I don’t know exactly. Minutes.”
“So it could be argued that Alec chasing the car, jumping in the passenger side—clearly uninvited—and during a tumultuous storm, could have startled Miss Wells enough that she lost control of the car.”
“It was possible,” the chief concedes. “But we don’t deal in speculations, just facts.”
“Was Miss Wells speeding?”
“Again, with conditions as severe as they were, nobody should have been out on the road?—”
“That’s not what I asked you, Mr. Stephenson. I asked if she was speeding. Did you find evidence of this on the vast array of camera footage or get testimony supporting this from those eyewitnesses?”
“No. There was never any proof that she was speeding.”
“So Miss Wells didn’t drag Alec Bannerman into the car, and she wasn’t speeding. I’ve seen photos and read the stats to know the size comparison between the two, and I have to say Miss Wells would have had as much luck forcing Mr. Bannerman to put his seatbelt on as I would have, and I’m far bigger than she is.”
“Objection, conjecture.”
“Withdrawn.”
Mr. Knowles rubs his hand over his jaw before he steps around the table and sits on the edge of it. “You didn’t visit the scene of the accident, but you read the reports, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
The prosecutor lifts a file from the desk and flicks through it. “A substantial amount of blood was found inside the vehicle.”
I swallow, feeling vomit rush up the back of my throat.
“I don’t have the file in front of me, but I remember blood inside the vehicle being noted.”
“Oh, excuse me.” The prosecutor picks up extra files and asks for permission to approach the bench. When granted, he hands a copy of the file to both the judge and the chief. He walks back to his desk, seeking me out and offering me a reassuring look.
“Hang in there, Sorrow. I know this is hard, baby, but you can do this. You’re so fucking strong,” Banner whispers, kissing the top of my head.
“I don’t feel very strong. I feel like I might puke.”
“No, shame in that either. Just aim for my parents.” Banner winks, making my lips twitch. Smartass. But then I realize he’s distracted me enough that my stomach settles a little.
“The documents say a large amount of blood was found inside the vehicle, correct?” Mr. Knowles repeats.
