Page 127 of Dissection of a Murder
“Was that a ‘yes’?” I can’t resist.
“For god’s sake, Leila! Yes. Let’s just be done with it.”
I nod and walk toward the door.
“How did you know?” he asks as I reach for the handle.
“What?”
“How did you find out? About Demi?”
I smile. That’s what’s bothering him. He can’t stand that I figured it out.
“Let’s just call it a tip-off. You weren’t as discreet as you thought you were,” I tell him. “You knew she was at our house that night when I thought we were being burgled. You let me believe we were in danger.”
“I wanted nothing to do with her by then. Earlier that evening, she’d told me she was pregnant. Things were left on a bad note. She tried to call me several times about it, but I ignored her. I think she came to the house to scare me, threaten me, get me to talk to her. Itbackfired because you woke up. She should never have come to our house. I don’t know what she was thinking.”
As I turn the door handle, he asks, “How do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain? That Sienna won’t use this opportunity to ruin me, regardless?”
“Because Sienna and I have more integrity than you do,” I tell him, in the way a mother scolds her teenage son. “And that’s enough.”
A smile creeps onto my face as I walk out.
I remember the day Julian signed me off as his pupil. It was the proudest, most satisfying day of my life. That action told the world, “She’s good enough,” and his opinion meant more to me than anything.
I walk away from him today—no longer his pupil or his wife—not caring one bit what he thinks of me.
Whatever happens in this trial, I won.
—
By 4:15 p.m., people are starting to pack their stuff away. The judge will send the jury home at 4:30. Most of the other courts have closed for the day, and it’s only the people involved in Jack’s case hanging around.
I hear the click of the loudspeaker amplify through the robing room and my stomach lurches.
“Could all parties in the case ofR v Jack Millmanplease report to Court 1 immediately?”
Davina and I look at each other, alarmed.
“A verdict already?” she says.
“Bad news, if so. They’d never acquit this quickly.”
We pick up our bags and rush down, the prosecution team infront of us. We all try to look calm and collected, but we aren’t. You can practically hear our unsynchronized hearts beating like drums.
The press are already in, like vultures, ready to dine on whatever is happening. There’s an audible buzz in the courtroom.
“Is it a jury question or a verdict?” I ask the usher.
“It’s a verdict.”
My heart jolts. They’ve only been deliberating three hours. At this stage, it has to be unanimous, so they either all think he’s guilty or they all think he’s not guilty.
“Leila?” Davina calls, gesturing for me to get into place. I can hear her, but I’m not really in the same room. The enormity of what’s happening is only just registering. Slowly walking to the same seat I’ve been sitting in for the past three days, I look around the courtroom as people pile in to view the spectacle that’s about to occur. I see people from chambers, including Chester, all of whom will be judging my ability as an advocate based on this verdict.
But none of them matters as much as Jack.
Have I worked hard enough? Have I done the absolute best I could have, in the circumstances? Could I have done anything else? For so long, I’ve wanted to prove myself in this job, prove I have what it takes to do this kind of case, and now I’ve had my shot.
