“I don’t know.”
“At any point, did you believe that Curtis was going to die?”
Jo clears her throat. “Yes.”
“Tell me about that point.”
“Jeremiah picked up a thick branch and hit Curtis on the back of the head. It knocked him to the ground, and he stopped moving. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing,” her voice breaks. “I thought he was dead, and I was chained up. I couldn’t help him,” she cries, and I sense the room collectively feeling her sadness.
Except, Lochlan. My focus is still on him and the way his knuckles are turning white in his lap.Don’t cause a scene, buddy. Don’t cause a scene.
“I can only imagine how difficult that was for you. But I am happy that we have Curtis here today to tell his story. My next witness, your honor. Curtis Debaugh.”
Thank God.I can finally breathe again once Jo is in her seat next to Lochlan, and he visibly relaxes. I did not want to fight that battle today.
Curtis’s testimony can make or break the severity of Jeremiah’s punishment today. Liv also has to prove that Jeremiah is not just a victim of his brother’s bidding.
Curtis is summoned from the hallway because he asked not to be forced to watch the trial from the gallery. It was too much, hearing all the details all over again.
He walks down the main aisle between all the spectators, hobbling slightly and visibly in pain as he uses a cane to assist him. He’s wearing a knit hat to cover the scars on his head, and Sienna walks closely behind him, ready to help him if needed.
She looks different outside of her nurse scrubs. Smaller and more fragile. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, and her glasses make her look young, though I think she’s a few years older than Curtis.
She sits in the pew closest to the swinging gate after holding it open, letting Curtis make the final steps to the stand by himself. Natalie is sitting behind her and leans forward to squeeze her shoulder.
“Curtis, thank you for being here,” Liv tells him after he takes his oath to tell the truth.
He nods but doesn’t respond. His handstwitch nervously.
“Can you tell us about the night you were injured?”
“Yeah, um… I was looking for a little girl. Lochlan, I mean, Mr. Dane’s niece. I was looking for her, and it was late. When I saw…” He clears his throat. “When I saw him.”
“Him, who?”
“Him.” Curtis points to Jeremiah, but his other fingers are crooked slightly, splayed outwardly when they should be tucked against his palm.
“Let the record show that Mr. Debaugh is pointing to the defendant, Jeremiah Porter.” She pauses, letting that settle. “What is the first thing you noticed?”
“He was a firefighter. Or, he looked like one. The barns were on fire. There were a lot of firefighters on the property.”
“When did you realize that something was wrong?”
“I heard my name. Jo, err, JoAnna, screamed my name. She yelled that she was trapped and that Jer– He had trapped her.” Curtis is struggling to speak, and he keeps refusing to say Jeremiah’s name.
“What happened next, Curtis?”
Curtis rubs at his head, but he doesn’t speak.
“Curtis?”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, fidgeting in his seat.
“That’s okay. I know this is difficult. Let’s move on; we can circle back later. Okay?”
He nods in agreement, but continues shifting in his seat uncomfortably.
“Can you tell us about the injuries you sustained that night?”
