“My apologies, your honor,” a crystal clear voice rang out.
My spine snapped straight. I swung around in my seat, making the guards jump. There she was, striding across the floor in a slick, black suit, golden blonde hair pulled back on the crown of her head, blue gaze piercing the room.
An avenging angel.
She’s alive.
It took too many seconds, but I caught a shadow move behind her. Volatile and ruthless. The spike of adrenaline only dampened when recognition clicked into place.
Liam gave me a short nod before dropping down onto an empty bench.
Amanda pushed through the barrier. “Amanda Messina representing Mr. Messina.”
“This is unnecessary!” the public defendant shouted, eyes wide and searching the crowd.
“Sidebar. Now,” Judge Stegen barked.
Amanda didn’t spare me a glance, marching straight to the judge. She handed the clerk a paper, then clasped her hands in front of her body. The public defendant and the prosecuting attorney both talked over one another, but Amanda held her ground, chin tipped up.
“If this is true….” I heard the judge mutter.
“It is, your honor.” Amanda dipped her chin once. “His rights have been violated, and we intend to sue."
"I'll allow it. Proceed, Miss Messina.”
“It’s Misses, sir,” Amanda dared to correct him. Turning to the weasel, she snapped, “You’re dismissed, Larsen.”
The public defender fidgeted, protesting in a high-pitched squeal.
“Bailiff, remove this attorney,” Stegen snapped. “Mrs. Messina, don’t waste my time. The floor is yours.”
“Thank you, your honor.” Amanda turned to face the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, over the course of this trial, you will hear a great deal about what happened on the night in question. The prosecution will tell you a story—a story built onassumptions about what my client meant to do. But intention is not something we guess at. It is something that must be proven. And the evidence in this case will show that the State cannot prove—beyond a reasonable doubt—that the defendant intended to kill anyone.”
Amanda gestured to me, but her gaze remained fixed on the crowd.
Show me your eyes, fiore.I needed to see. I needed toknow.Only in those blue orbs could I see the truth.
I clenched my jaw tight, body vibrating with new energy. Every muscle strained not to go to her. But I was chained in the box. There were only a few feet spared me.
Amanda let out a short laugh, lips turning in a smile.Dio!She was beautiful! Such a show. They would be eating out of her hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you what you can anticipate. You will hear that the situation was chaotic, fast, emotional, and frightening. You will hear testimony showing that my client acted in panic, not purpose. You will hear that there was confusion, fear, and split-second reactions—but no plan, no motive, and no deliberate choice to take a life.”
Let me see you.
Amanda moved with ease to the benches of jurors. “The law requires intent.” She lifted her fingers to count. “Not speculation. Not assumptions. Not ‘maybe.’”
The jurors watched her with rapt interest. Many nodded along.
“At the end of this trial,” Amanda continued with a strong note of conviction, “when you’ve heard all the evidence, you will see that what happened might have been a tragedy—but not a crime of intent. Not an act of malice. Not attempted murder.”
Amanda swept her arm to the prosecution. “After all, there was no gun. You’ve failed to produce that in the sham of disclosure.”
The state representative squirmed.
Amanda’s smile was vicious. “And, ladies and gentlemen, when you see that lack of intent clearly in the evidence, you will find my client not guilty.” Turning to the judge, Amanda dipped her chin. “That is all for now, your honor.”
“The state would like to call their first witness,” the prosecutor declared.
