“Ah,” the attorney said. “And after the raid—after your father’s arrest—you went with him? When the rest of your community was sent to either jail or protective services?”
“Y-yes. Well, I was in the hospital for a month. But then after that, yes.”
“I see.” He took a few steps closer to the lectern, lowering his voice just enough to feel personal. “Mr. Ransom, what is the nature of your relationship with Agent Agbayani?”
“He’s my guardian,” I said carefully. “He takes care of me.”
“And emotionally?” the attorney asked. “You rely on him, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said. “I trust him.”
“More than anyone else.”
I didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, “Yes.”
He nodded, satisfied. “And would it be fair to say that your relationship goes beyond a typical guardian-ward dynamic?”
The courtroom felt very far away.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” I said, my voice a bit wobbly.
“Let me be clearer. Are you romantically or intimately involved with Agent Agbayani?”
The word intimate echoed in my head, sour and sharp.
The prosecutor was already standing. “Objection, Your Honor. Relevance.”
The judge held up a hand, considering. “Counsel?”
The defense attorney spread his hands. “Bias and influence, Your Honor. The witness’s credibility.”
The judge’s gaze flicked back to me. “I’ll allow limitedquestioning. Answer only what is asked, Mr. Ransom.”
I swallowed thickly, but nodded, then nervously turned to look back at the man questioning me.
“Yes,” I said as steadily as I could. “We are in a relationship.”
Another ripple went through the room—louder this time. I kept my eyes forward.
“And when did this relationship begin?” he asked.
“I—” My heart sped up. I sent a panicked look to the State’s attorney, who was rifling through papers on the table in front of her and whispering to her colleagues.
“Your answer, Mr. Ransom?”
“At the compound,” I whispered, pressing my nails into the cube again.
“Your intimate relationship with Special Agent Agbayani began during his undercover operation, when you supposedly were not aware of his true identity and agenda?”
“Yes…”
“Interesting. Mr. Ransom, is it correct that since leaving the Covenant’s compound, you have been receiving medical care, mental health therapy, food, clothing, and housing?”
“Yes, sir.” My brow furrowed. I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.
He nodded again, a slight smirk on his face. “And have you paid for any of those things yourself, Mr. Ransom?”
I blinked. “No.”
