The ‘concerned residents’ who dismantled the original program are still fuming but I’ve discovered that it really doesn’t matter as long as you’re the one with the most zeroes in your bank account.
At the rate I’ve been spending, that won’t stay true forever, but I feel good about using it to make possible the changes I want to happen.
And when I worried aloud to Evie that transferring funds wasn’t giving me the warm glow of philanthropy I expected, she immediately went out and filled our school holidays with a half-dozen boots-on-the-ground projects. They range from our current stint at decorating through to serving meals at the City Mission.
Even if I occasionally grumble, the physical act of giving back to the community is far better for my mental health than any donation could be. Once again, I’m grateful her spark and practicality are part of my life.
Every morning I wake in her arms is better than the last.
“We need to go,” she says now, showing me the time on her phone. “Did he call you like he promised?”
Zane is in court again today, this time for sentencing.
Despite hiring the best lawyer I could find, the man couldn’t undo the damage of Zane’s highly detailed confession. Being seventeen, the police weren’t required to contact a guardian unless requested and he hadn’t asked for support.
The barrister explained that to plead not guilty would not only result in a more intensive investigation coming my friend’s way but could expose me and Wilder to potential charges as well.
I hate leaving him alone to suffer the consequences but also understand the guilt that motivated him to take the blame. Thank goodness, Evie already knew, so we’ve been able to talk about it openly from the very first night. She always brings a new perspective to things… another item on the long list of reasons to be grateful she’s such a big part of my life.
“Do not give in to your base instincts,” she warns me as I tip paint from the roller tray back into the can. “Nobody wants to see a ginger Smurf.”
I pull her into my arms, enjoying the way she curves into my body, finding a perfect fit, snug against my chest.
“We’ve got a little spare time, don’t we?” I say, my thumb caressing the edge of her jaw until it winds up dimpling into the sensitive spot behind her ear. The way her body sways to press against me more firmly tells me she’s on board with a little diversion, then she breaks free, shaking her head.
“Nope. Not a minute to spare, buddy. The moment we get in the door I want you changing into your best suit.”
But my powers of persuasion must be on fire today because we wind up running a few minutes late, both flushed and happier than anyone entering the public gallery of a district courtroom has any right to be. Luckily, the judge also runs late—presumably for very different reasons—and we end up waiting on the bench outside.
To my surprise, Evie’s brother walks through the courthouse door, nodding to his sister but locking eyes with me, giving a jerk of his chin to pull me to one side.
“I got you this.” Ant hands me a neatly folded pocket square. In the corner, is a small dot of blood.
When I stare at him, so deeply moved I can’t talk, his lips curl in the trace of a smile. “I loved Addie, too. So much. Once upon a time, we told each other all the things we were going to do the moment we got clean.” He pauses for a moment while my heart swells. Not just with gratitude for what he’s done to avenge her, but for staying beside her when the rest of us fell away. His voice thickens with emotion as he adds, “I made him pay. For every version of the future he stole from her, I made him pay.”
The silk material is heavy, rough but smooth at the same time.
“You know,” Ant continues. “I never had much of an idea of what to do with my life. Evie has a clearer head than me. I’m sure she’ll embrace uni, her mind works so much like Dad’s, she can easily follow in his footsteps.” He frowns as the bailiff moves to stand beside the judge’s chamber door, then snorts out a laugh. “I mean the academic stuff, not the addiction.”
His casual attitude invites me to laugh along with him, a first. Since our altercation at the clinic, we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye, and I can’t blame him for that. I hate myself for what I said, what Idid, too.
But relaxed Ant is a different creature from the frazzled junkie I wanted to hurt because he knew too many of my secrets. Now that fear has rescinded—most of the time, anyway—I hope we can gradually work our way towards being friendlier even if we never become friends.
“Don’t you have any aspirations?”
“I might do.” He gives me a quick sideways glance. “But I’m happy to be the new fixit man. Someone to clear away impediments or inconveniences.” While I tilt my head, working it through in my mind, he shrugs. “Not that I share the same morals as the last one, but if you or someone you can vouch for ever need my help, I’m happy to see what I can do.”
Astonishment steals my voice, then the case is called. By the time I recover, the judge has walked into the room and the opportunity to respond is lost as everyone stands. I tuck the keepsake in my jeans pocket, where it forms a comforting weight, and take Evie’s hand.
A formality. That’s what his lawyer has kept stressing since he entered the plea. With just under a month to go before Zane turns eighteen, he’s being sentenced under youth court rules.
No permanent record will follow him into adulthood, and name suppression automatically applies. The sentencing guidelines also have more freedom of movement; especially since he has no previous convictions.
“I’ve read through the agreed summary of facts,” the judge says as I stare at the back of my friend’s head, wishing I could see his face to understand how he’s feeling. “And have also studied the character references and victim impact statements for the case. My starting position is five years.”
Zane’s lawyer leaps to his feet. “Your honour, my client has never been in trouble with the law beforehand. A starting position of three years is more in line with previous sentences imposed by the courts.”
“In single victim cases,” the judge replies, no scrap of emotion on his face. “Here, we have multiple victims.”
