“What about Sadie?” David asked, his voice tight. “Will she be charged?”
I hesitated. This was the part I didn’t want to say.
“Legally, Sadie committed homicide,” I said carefully. “But it was self-defense. The recording proves that. If the DA decides to charge her, we’ll argue self-defense, and we’ll win. But given the circumstances—” I paused. “Alan’s history, the evidence... I don’t think they’ll pursue charges.”
“Youdon’t think?” Susan said, her voice rising. “You’re not sure?”
“I can’t guarantee anything,” I said. “But the recording is powerful evidence. It shows exactly what happened. It shows that Sadie had no choice.”
Sadie’s hands tightened around the coffee mug, her knuckles white.
“I killed him,” she whispered. “I killed him, and Simon almost went to prison for it.”
“You defended yourself,” Simon said firmly. “You did what you had to do.”
“But you—”
“I made my choice,” Simon interrupted. “And I’d make it again.”
And he would. That was the thing that gutted me. Simon would make the same choice tomorrow, next week, ten years from now. He’d take the blame. He’d sit in that cell again. He’d face that jury again.
Because that was who he was.
Someone capable of radical, selfless love. Someone willing to annihilate himself for the people he cared about.
Someone who deserved the same in return.
And I’d given him six years of hiding. Six years of shame. Six years of taking everything he offered while giving him nothing but secrecy and cowardice.
Sadie’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked away.
Keys leaned forward slightly, his voice low. “Sadie.”
She didn’t look at him.
“Sadie,” he said again, softer this time.
She shook her head, her shoulders trembling.
Keys sat back, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists. He looked like he wanted to reach for her, to pull her into his arms, to tell her everything would be okay.
But he didn’t.
Because he knew she wasn’t ready.
I watched the way Keys studied her like she was the only thing in the room, and the way Sadie avoided his gaze like she couldn’t bear to see the concern in his eyes.
Fuck.
That is going to be messy.
“What happens next?” David asked, pulling my attention back.
“Tomorrow morning, we reconvene,” I said. “Judge Markham will rule on the admissibility of the recording. Rosalind will object, but he’ll allow it. Then the jury will watch it.”
“And then?” Susan asked.
“And then we finish the trial,” I said. “Closing arguments. Jury deliberation. Verdict.”
