QOC: What is your favorite cereal?
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- Anna's POV -
It's an overwhelming building, really. It isn't as tall as the skyscrapers in New York, but it's sure large.
Although, it isn't even because of its size that causes my heart to palpitate and my hands to go cold and numb. It's more because of what will happen on the inside. And it's also because of the people with cameras outside — reporters. That is what's so unnerving.
And the fact that after I step out of this car and into the Denver Probate Court, Aiden can't be with me, terrifies my core. He's not allowed to be in the courtroom when they put me up for testifying.
I keep my hands clasped in my lap as I stare out the car window with unease. Suddenly my strength from yesterday dissipates entirely, and I want to back out. But then I remember that I'm in this for my family and for the one I'm in love with. Whatever happens to me doesn't matter as long as they're justified.
I release a shaky breath. "This is scary," I admit.
Lyma looks back at me worriedly and Hayley spins around from the passenger seat to give me a somewhat reassuring smile. Nico reaches around Aiden to give me a pat on the shoulder.
"Remember quote number twenty-three?" Nico asks, raising an eyebrow like a mother scolding her child.
I roll my eyes. "Yes, Nico. I remember quote number twenty-three."
Fear can keep us up all night long. But faith can make us a pillow.
I've just got to have faith during this process. Everything will work out. After all of this chaos I've experienced, I think I'm due for some good karma anyway.
"Good. Now run along. You have to save my friends' asses." He waves his hand as if to brush me away from the vehicle. "No pressure, Shortie."
"You got this, Anna." Hayley nods and grins comfortingly.
I blow out a slow breath. "Okay." My eyes shift to Aiden, who's staring at the press with an intensely hard glare. "Come on. Let's go."
His gorgeous green orbs finally flit over to me before his head nods. I reach for the door handle and open it up, putting my right foot outside first. And almost immediately, as if a flock of geese noticing someone holding bread, the news reporters snap their heads over to me. There's point two milliseconds of silence before the noise of questionnaire is shot my way.
Aiden steps out of the car instantly and shuts it behind him. Then he puts me around his body, shielding me with his arms. He helps maneuver me to the front as best as he can, blocking me with his arm.
My brows furrow in confusion and because of the pressure around me. Questions are being thrown at me randomly, and I can't keep up. I had no idea that this case would gain so much popularity. But I do suppose Colorado doesn't get much craziness from city folk like us.
Someone almost hits me in the face with a microphone. "Anna Morgan: Where were you stabbed?"
My mouth opens a little, but I close it again before I can reply because of another question. "Ms. Morgan: Why were you at Billard's Home for Girls in the first place?"
Then another.
"Did the associate of Mr. Cardale's try to murder you as well?"
"How much horror were the young girls exposed to?"
"Do you feel at fault for your friends' and soulmate's near-death experience?"
"Is it true that you suffered a miscarriage?"
Aiden stops trying to shove us through at the sound of the last question, and my heart breaks a little at the mention. His eyes snap up to the male reporter in glasses, a threatening gaze in them.
"What did you just ask?" Aiden growls. The cameras are aimed at him, and I already know that some of them have just started rolling.
The reporter's eyes go wide and he gulps once. Aiden is about to step forward when I do first, making eye contact as I get in front of him. I don't know why I thought it would be a good thing to do, and I hope it is, but I wrap my arms around his torso and squeeze my eyes shut tightly.
"Don't listen to them," I say in a whisper so only he can hear. "This will look really bad, Aiden. I don't want this to affect what happens in there." My eyes glance to the large building amongst this mess.
I can tell he's staring at them all for a good while, and for a moment I'm afraid he's going to brush me off and take a swing at the guy. But he sighs and then wraps his arms around my small frame, kissing my forehead.
Usually I'd be embarrassed about this PDA stuff, but I now know it's good for trial cases. It'll make Aiden look like a lover and not a fighter. A boyfriend who was protecting someone he is emotionally attached to.
When we pull apart, most of the female reporters are giving us adoring expressions, while the men are neutral. It's sad that they don't understand what love is, the ones who aren't gushing. I was one of them once.
We finish pushing through, still with the press on our backs, until we get inside and shut the doors on their faces. He sighs and holds my hands with his, looking into my eyes with worry. It's completely silent in here, and it would be comforting if not for the guard standing there, ready to check me down for any weapons and such. The whole "security routine."
"Don't worry," I tell Aiden quietly, giving him a small smile. "I promise I'll say what I can to get you out, but I'm going to tell all of the truth."
He shakes his head. "That's not what I'm worried about, Anna. I couldn't care less about what happens to me. I just don't want you to have a panic attack in there, or answer anything you don't want to. I don't want you around jackasses who aren't there to be kind to you. I just don't want to leave you here."
My heart warms at his words, and I stand on the tips of my toes to peck his cheek. There's a slight stubble from not shaving for a few days, but nothing crazy. It tickles my lips.
"It'll be fine," I promise. "I'll be fine."
He sighs and looks warily at the security guard before going back to me. Reluctantly, he releases my hands. I grin. He trusts me. I'm glad he trusts me enough to take care of myself. And the final step to that is letting go. Albeit he only physically let go, but I think he released tension in his mind in the process.
"I'll be right out here in that car. I'm not letting Lyma leave anywhere without me in it," He says sternly.
I nod. "Okay. Just don't do anything or say anything to those reporters. Promise me you won't." I hold up a finger and raise an eyebrow.
Aiden chuckles and ruffles my hair. I glare at him and slap his hands away.
"I promise," He says in a deep tone after a few moments of simple smiling.
"Good," I state. "Let's not break our promises then."
He bends his neck to kiss my lips. Tingling sensations erupt on them, even if it only lasts for a second.
"I won't."
~
I grip onto the sides of the podium and show a neutral face, trying not to give any sort of nervousness away as attorneys and other federal government agencies ask me many questions.
For the past hour, they've been interrogating me non-stop. And they do it skillfully without any emotion or bias. A few people off to the side type out and record everything that is being said by everyone. It's crazy how fast they can move their fingers along the keyboards.
"And finally, Ms. Morgan, what did Diovanni Cardale do to your brother and you as children?" Mr. Myers asks.
Actually it's "you and your brother," not "your brother and you," I want to say. Of course I refrain, as I do not wish for anyone in this room to be against my word. My version of the story.
Instead, I say, "You have the files, don't you, sir?" I ask calmly and politely.
"Yes," He answers. "But I want to hear it from you. How did your father treat Dakota and you?"
I swallow once and nod, glancing down at a small indent in my ring finger before looking up again. "Um, well, he was never kind. He called me horrible things and told me I'd never live the life I wanted." But look where I am now, you dead asshole.
"Anyone could have guessed this," Myers continues. "Let's talk about the abuse you were put through. How did he treat Dakota versus you?"
I gnaw on my bottom lip. "Dakota wasn't abused. Dakota was given everything he needed as a child."
"So were you ever jealous of him? Ever want to go after him?"
Confusion strikes me. "What? No. I never wanted to hurt him. He had to work extremely hard to care for me. He provided me with food, education, and general care as far as social acceptance goes. He really loved his little sister...and on top of that, he had to witness all the horrible things my father did to women in the house. Dakota is just as strong as I am after going through a rough start."
Mr. Myers nods slowly. "Ah, alright. So, would you say, perhaps, that Dakota was revengeful of your father? That maybe he wanted to possibly even go as far as murdering him? And he knew Aiden seemed tough enough - on the inside and out - to help him with the job?"
I almost want to scoff at this man. And I also have to remind myself that he doesn't know about Aiden and Dakota and Nico being involved in past illegal gang activities. He didn't know they were acquaintances with murder, sex trafficking, and theft. And there's no way I'm admitting to that.
It pisses me off that he thinks Dakota would have a revengeful heart. Dakota wasn't even the one that killed him! It was Lily, and with good reason. From our past conversations, Mr. Meyers said he already knew about that. That Lily wasn't going to jail because my clothes ripped up by my father and the evidence they plotted in the grass where he pinned me proved she stabbed him in the back. And since he'd be way taller than her, it's safe to say that my father - in fact - had pinned me and was planning to rape me. So he was low enough for Lily to stab from behind.
She's taken care of.
What Myers is trying to dig out is why Aiden had such a motive to kill Noah and if Dakota had anything to do with it. Also, he's trying to decipher if Dakota would have prompted Lily to somehow kill our father. But even that's unrealistic.
I sigh, relaxing. "Look, Mr. Myers, my brother has the most mending heart out there. After he left me, as you know, I never wanted to see him again. I hated him with a burning passion. But when he showed up, I was just confused and hurt. He actually wanted to make amends with me after explaining he only wanted to help in the first place by leaving. He knows that was a mistake now, of course, but that's not the point. What I'm trying to say, is that even when I pushed him away for days on end, he kept trying to heal ties with me. So I just couldn't see why he would try to murder my father, even after everything he'd done to us. He's too kind hearted for that. He's too smart to go and kill a man without any experience of doing that before. And he would never risk our relationship, which would be strained if he were thrown in jail, for a worthless man. He's too much of a brother."
There's silence in the courtroom for ten point three seconds. Mr. Myers just stares at me the whole time with this blank look. However, his eyes tell a story of intrigue and wonder. And after those seconds are over, he nods, clearing his throat.
He looks over at Judge Mandy, stacking papers into a briefcase. "Your honor, I dismiss my questioning of Anna Morgan." I take a quiet sigh of relief as he closes the buckles on his black case.
Judge Mandy nods, then faces me. "Anna Morgan, I hereby declare you innocent of any accompaniment or first role action in the murder of this case. I also declare you guilty of breaking and entering, as a misdemeanor due to influential personal purpose, into Billard's Home for Girls. I sentence you with a fine of two grand, due by the thirtieth of May, or law enforcement will come to your home and bring you to the required placement. Do you understand?"
I nod understandingly. This is what I expected. "Yes, Your Honor."
She nods once and picks up the gavel, a small ceremonial mallet, and knocks it onto the wood once.
"Dismissed."
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A/N:
I just had my inauguration for promoting into the eighth grade today, and I watched the seniors graduate. Boy, waterworks were happeninnnnng.
Countdown: 3 chapters left