“Start with any of them,” Grace said, with an unflinching look to her eyes. “I’ll tell you why they are incorrect.”
Sidney leaned closer. “I want to start with your relationship with Julian. For the audience to believe that you didn’t kill him, they have to believe you loved him.”
“I did love him.”
“I believe that,” Sidney said. “But while talking with Inspector Pierre, and reading through the trial transcripts, a lot of things were revealed about your relationship with Julian. That, perhaps, your relationship wasn’t as perfect as you suggest in your letters to me.”
“We were twenty-something. I don’t know if any relationship is perfect at that age. But I did love him. Some part of me still does. The part that’s not angry with him.” Grace shook her head. “I’ve spent countless hours and more than a few sleepless nights trying to figure out this emotion, but on some hard-to-explain level, I’m mad at Julian. I don’t have access to a psychiatrist in here, so I’ve had to figure these emotions out on my own. But what I’ve settled on is that I’m angry with Julian because he left me here. Because his death has brought me so much pain and heartache. His death cost me my own life. And yet, all these years later, I still love him. I know none of it is his fault. I just have nowhere else to place the blame. So poor Julian takes much of it.”
Sidney nodded. “I want to find a way to show the audience how much you loved Julian. Because when I read about your love story, as you presented it in your letters, it touched me. I want to do the same to my audience.”
Grace looked over at the guard who stood out of camera shot. She pointed at the small table next to her, and the guard nodded. Grace reached over and retrieved an item, placed it on the table in front of Sidney.
“Have you ever seen one of these?” Grace asked.
Sidney looked down at an old-fashioned padlock. It was large, the size of her open palm. Antique bronze, the lock had a medieval look, with smooth edges that offered the resemblance of a miniature rustic kettlebell.
“It’s a lock?” Sidney said.
“A love lock,” Grace said. “My grandfather gave it to me when I was ten. He told me it was for my heart. To lock it away and only open it when I found the right man. When I found Julian, I finally understood my grandfather’s gesture.”
Sidney picked up the heavy lock and ran her thumb over it. Engraved into the smooth surface were two names:Grace & Julian.
“It seems silly to me now,” Grace said. “But back when Julian and I were dating, these love locks were trendy. They still are, in France and some other countries. Pont des Arts Bridge in Paris is, perhaps, the most famous love lock location in the world. When you find the person you will spend your life with, you engrave your names on the lock, secure it to the bridge, and throw away the key. I always thought Julian and I would go to Paris someday, to the Pont des Arts Bridge to secure our lock and throw the key into the Seine. Or maybe we’d go back to Delhi, where we met, and find a place there.” Grace smiled. “I had a lot of crazy plans back then.”
“What was Julian’s plan?”
“He never knew about this lock. I put his name on it but never got the chance to show it to him.”
Sidney noticed that Grace was becoming emotional, so she steered the conversation in another direction. She held up the lock. “You were allowed to keep this? During your incarceration?”
“No,” Grace said, taking the lock from Sidney and staring at it. “Not at first. Only last year did the prison allow me the privilege of personal items, because of good behavior. My friend Ellie Reiser kept this for me all these years. When the warden allowed me to have a few comfort items from home, I chose my love lock as one of them. Ellie brought it during a visit.”
Grace forced a smile and again worked to stop the tears from spilling over her lids before she let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “A lot has changed between Julian and me over the years that I’ve been here. He was everything to me. Now, he’s this . . .thing.This voice in my head that gets me through tough days. He’s a dark shadow in my mind that cries with me. I scream at that shadow sometimes, too, because I’m still angry. It’s odd to consider, but I’ve known this spirit of Julian longer than I knew the man.”
Grace held up the love lock.
“I’ve kept this all these years, because I loved Julian back then, and I still do today.”
Sidney looked down at her notes.
“Allison Harbor, Julian’s ex-girlfriend, came up during my interview with Claude Pierre.”
Grace let out an annoyed laugh. “Claude Pierre was obsessed with her.”
“Do you think Julian was still involved with her?”
“No.”
“Do you think he still loved her?”
“No,” Grace said. “Julian loved me.”
“You are so confident of this fact,” Sidney said. “Both in your letters to me, and now. But when I dig into your past, and Julian’s, will I find a different story?”
Grace took a deep breath. “Julian was going to propose to me. That’s why he asked me to meet him on Soufriere Bluff. He was going to ask me to marry him. Why would he do that if he was in love with someone else?”
The Girl of Sugar Beach
