He was angry.
Did he know about this? Did he know she had a recording?
I felt my heart pounding, my mind racing.
Everything just changed.
Sadie had confessed. She’d admitted the truth. And she had evidence to back it up.
I looked at my sister, sitting on the stand with tears streaming down her face, and I felt my chest tighten with fear.
What have you done, Sadie? What have you just sacrificed to save me?
The gavel came down hard, the sound echoing through the stunned courtroom.
“We’re in recess,” Uncle Alex announced, his voice sharpand commanding. “Ms. Winthrop, Mr. Gallagher, and Ms. Nelson, my chambers. Now.”
The courtroom erupted into murmurs, but I barely heard them over the roaring in my ears.
Wait. What?
I started to stand, but Uncle Alex’s gaze swept past me without acknowledgment. He wasn’t calling me back. Just Sadie. Just Tony. Just Rosalind.
Why not me?
Tony was already moving; he stood, looking into my eyes for a beat. “Stay here,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “I’ll handle this.”
“But—”
“Trust me, Simon.”
And then he was gone, following Uncle Alex through the side door. The bailiff escorted Sadie down from the witness stand, his hand hovering near her elbow but not touching. Rosalind walked ahead of them, her spine rigid, her heels clicking sharply against the tile floor.
The door to the chambers closed behind them with a heavy thud.
And I was left standing there, alone at the defense table, my heart pounding in my chest.
What the hell just happened?
I turned to where my parents sat in the gallery. Mom’s face was pale, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Dad reached out and squeezed my arm.
Mom leaned toward me immediately, her voice low and urgent. “What was that about?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice tight.
“Why wouldn’t he call you?” Dad asked, his brow furrowed. “You’re the defendant.”
“I don’t know,” I repeated, though I wasn’t sure he was actually looking for an answer.
Mom’s hand found mine, her grip warm and steady. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”
“Is it?” I looked at her, searching her face for certainty I knew she couldn’t give. “She just confessed to killing Alan. In open court. And now she’s back there with the judge and the prosecutor, and I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Tony is with her,” Dad said, though his tone suggested he was trying to convince himself as much as me. “He’ll make sure she’s protected.”
I nodded, but the reassurance felt hollow. Tony was with her. But I wasn’t. I was out here, sitting in the courtroom like a spectator in my own trial, waiting for someone to tell me what was happening to my sister.
The minutes stretched.