“I know you.”

The handsome man in front of me reaches up with his hand, caressing my cheek. “Yes, love, you do.”

“Who are you?” I ask, trying to ignore the way his touch makes me feel.

He drops his hand and intertwines it with my own. “It doesn’t matter, Valerie. What matters is what you need to see.” He pulls me along through an open space until I’m back in my house, outside the sitting room door. The mysterious man opens the door and voices float out. It feels familiar listening to my mother and Nat argue, but I don’t understand what this means.

I turn to the man. “I don’t understand.”

He leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I know, but soon it will all make sense, I promise.” He takes a step away from me and the look on his face makes me want to reach after him. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Valerie.”

 

My stomach is so nauseous that I have never been gladder I skipped a meal. A new officer grabbed me from my cell just after they gave us breakfast. It was a sticky porridge, and with my stomach already a bundle of nerves, I didn’t touch it. The officer led me into a small room just outside the courtroom and told me my lawyer was on the way. I paced the room nervously, waiting for my dad to show up. The moment he did, my nerves settled.

“Okay, honey? You know the drill? When the judge speaks to you, you answer. Otherwise, let me do the talking.”

I nod as he opens the door to the courtroom and the police officer guides me to a seat right up front. I can’t help but feel like I’m in some kind of TV show. There’s already a well-dressed man in a suit sitting in front of my mother as they whisper together, each casting glances my way. I grit my teeth, angry that she could think I would be capable of something so heinous.

The clerk sitting next to the raised platform at the front of the room gets to his feet. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Danson.”

My father and I get to our feet, along with my mother and the suit I assume is the DA. A balding man comes out from a door behind the platform.

The clerk waits for the judge to sit before telling us to be seated. He hands the judge a folder and states the case number and my name. Wow. The people versus Valerie Jones; that isn’t terrifying at all.

The judge skims over the folder before looking down at me. “The charge is first degree murder. Do you understand the charges as they have been read to you?”

At a nudge from my father I get to my feet shakily. “I do, Your Honor.”

He nods. “How do you plead?”

I take a deep breath, making my voice sound strong and confident that I’m not the one he is looking for. “Not guilty, Your Honor.”

"Very well." The judge shuffles some papers around on his desk. “You both have statements prepared?”

My father and the DA respond in the affirmative.

"Okay then, you may begin.”

The DA gets to his feet. “Your Honor, we’re here today because this woman, Valerie Jones, was found covered in the blood of the murder victim. She has been questioned by police but she denied having any knowledge of the crime when her DNA was found at the crime scene.”

“Objection, Your Honor.” My father gets to his feet angrily. “My client’s DNA was bound to show up at the crime scene since the victim was my client’s best friend. They spent nearly every day together. DNA was bound to be found at the scene.”

The judge’s stern face looks through the documents in front of him. When he’s finished he meets my eyes. “Is this true? You were with the victim most days?”

I clear my throat nervously. “Yes, Your Honor. She was my best friend. I loved her.”

He writes something down before he looks to the DA. “You may continue.”

The judge’s face remains stoic as the DA lists off every reason why I should be locked away for life. Listening to him explain my blackouts as some kind of rage episodes makes me feel sick to my stomach.

After he has finished, he goes to his paper on the desk and faces the judge. “Ms. Jones’ mother asked to be here today, if you don’t mind hearing what she has to say?”

The judge nods again and my mother walks up to the seat beside him, her hair neatly primped and her makeup perfectly done. She looks the picture of a sophisticated woman with money. As she takes a seat I can’t help but wonder why she’s doing this. I’ve done everything for her. I stayed behind for her. I lived with her when I could have lived with Natalie. Now look where I am; accused of murder and my mother is a witness against me.

The DA, a tall, intimidating man, approaches my mother and gives her a look of sympathy. He eyes her provocative clothing and I have to look away to avoid rolling my eyes. "Mrs. Jones, you are here today as a witness against your daughter. Do you understand your testimony may result in the imprisonment of your child?"

My mother nods solemnly. "I understand."

"Would you mind starting from the beginning and relaying your account of events?"

My mother smiles sadly. "Well, last night my daughter, Valerie," she pauses to point to me, so the judge can see exactly who she's referring to before continuing, "had a birthday party with her friends. My ex-husband and I also attended. Valerie started doing shots of tequila with her friends but her friend Natalie refused, volunteering to be the designated driver. When Valerie got too out of hand, Natalie insisted she take her home. I didn’t argue, knowing that I could trust Natalie. She had brought Valerie home many times when she had gotten out of control, so I didn’t see the harm.”

Wait! What the fuck? I almost rise to my feet to call her out on her bullshit, but I feel my dad grab my hand in a vice-like grip, keeping me in my seat. I glance at him in time for him to give a subtle shake of his head. His face is hard with anger, and I relax knowing he doesn’t believe her outrageous lies.

My mother looks directly at me, and her next words leave me completely dumbfounded. “She didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning. She was in one of her blackout-induced hazes, all covered in blood. I called the police and waited for them to arrive. She must have come out of her daze, because she screamed as they took her away.”

The DA nods his head as if intrigued. “You said blackouts. Could you please explain what blackouts you were talking about?”

She smiles as if it’s the best thing he could have asked her. “It all started after her father and I divorced. She would lose gaps of time, or she’d be standing outside in the garden with no clue as to how she got there. No matter how many therapists we saw, they couldn’t help her get over the issues. I had to quit work to support her.”

I hold back a scoff. My mother hasn't worked a day in her life. It’s one of the few reasons I didn't blame my father for leaving her. She expected him to provide for her with no give on her part. Safe to say, he got tired of it.

"It wasn't until I saw that other students at her high school were afraid of her that I realized my own daughter had a darker side.” My anger rises with each word she says, and I can feel the tension radiating from my father. We both know my mother is spitting out lies. My mother continues talking, telling the prosecutor about an incident in high school where I bloodied a guy for practically nothing; the reality of the situation was he had been bullying Sally. Small things like tugging on her hair escalated to trying to grab her. One day he slapped her ass as she was walking into the cafeteria and I punched him in his arrogant face.

My father gets to his feet, pushing back the chair with a loud scrape. “Your Honor, that holds no relevance to this case. My daughter was a teenager then. She should not be held accountable for protecting her friend when many other teenagers do much worse. I would also like to add that the witness the DA is questioning is not exactly a reliable source. She suffers from her own mental illness, one where she tried to murder our daughter. Doesn’t that make her a conflicted witness?”

My mother glares at him for interrupting her, and the judge nods. “Yes, I have a teenager as well so I can understand your anger, but her violent history does pertain to this case, so I’ll allow it.” My father turns back with a smug grin aimed at my mother before sitting back down beside me.

“Mrs. Jones, is it true that you suffer from your own mental illness?” the judge asks, directing his gaze to my mother. She pales and nods slightly. “And you have tried to kill your daughter because of this illness?”

Holy fuck! She really tried to kill me? I heard him say it but I assumed he meant the car accident. The way my mother nods makes me think that’s not what they’re talking about. Surely it can’t be true. I look to Dad for an explanation but he refuses to meet my eyes, instead watching the interaction between my mother and the judge.

So, he left me alone with my mother, knowing she had tried to kill me? Why didn’t he fight harder for me in the divorce? How could he know she wouldn’t try again?

I turn my attention back to my mother as she sputters out an explanation. “Well, yes, but that was before I was medicated. I no longer hold ill feelings towards my daughter.”

The judge nods in thought before adding, “And your previous dislike of her had nothing to do the fact that she is not your biological child?”

I close my eyes, hurt by his words. Dad had already told me but it didn’t soften the blow from hearing it again, in front of strangers.

“Yes, she’s not my daughter biologically, but that has nothing to do with why I’m testifying. My daughter has a darkness in her. The devil. She has never once felt remorse for her wrongdoings and even revels in the pain she causes. I’m terrified to leave my own home because she demands I stay and remain weak to the world around me.”

Fuck no! I can’t stand any more of this. “You’re a fucking liar! I’ve taken care of you for the past five years after your stroke and you sit there and blame me? Why did you spend all my college money if you wanted me gone so fucking badly?”

“SILENCE!” The judge pounds his gavel hard, and my dad pulls me back down to my seat and lets me lean on him for support as silent tears stream down my face.

What has made my mother so cold? She has always been distant, but this is a whole new level of malice she is showing.

The judge shuffles some papers on his desk before meeting my eyes. “Ms. Jones, while this is only a preliminary hearing, I need you to understand the full weight of the charges being brought against you.”

“I understand, Your Honor, and I am sorry for my outburst,” I apologize, my head hanging in shame. I know better than to let her bait me, but still I let her goad a reaction out of me.

He nods at me, a small smile crossing his lips. “That’s quite alright. I’d imagine the last forty-eight hours has been a jumble of emotions for you, and if you had remained calm throughout the proceedings, I would have believed you guilty.” He takes a breath and his eyes go hard. “However, a girl was murdered. Someone must pay for that. Your father and the DA agreed to a deal before you entered the room, but I have no notes here on whether you also agreed.”

He shuffles the papers on his desk and holds one up, reading from it. “The DA has agreed to allow your release on bail and then you would be released into your father’s custody until your trial.”

I listen intently, my hope rising that he seems to be willing to let me move to my father’s home rather than be imprisoned.

I lean over to my father. “You’re okay with me coming to live with you? That’s what it means, yes?”

“Yeah, baby girl, that’s what it means and I’d love it if you came home with me.”

I nod and look up at the judge with tears in my eyes. “I will happily live with my father until the trial.”

“Very well. Ms. Jones is remanded to her father’s custody and will undergo probation until her trial. Every month you will meet with your parole officer. Any violence and your probation will be revoked and we will be right back here. I hope I don’t see you until your trial, Ms. Jones.”

With that, the judge gets up from his seat and goes through the door behind the Bench, and the DA packs up his papers, shaking my dad’s hand before he leaves.

My mother approaches me and my father, but he pushes me behind him protectively before she can get close. “Hold it right there, Melissa. You are not to come near my daughter.”

She rolls her eyes. “She’s not your daughter, Troy. We both know what she is. I just wanted what was mine, and she took it from me.”

My father glances back at me before studying my mother with look of contempt. After a minute of staring, his eyes widen. “You have none left, do you?” He starts to chuckle before looking back at me. “That’s my girl.”

I have no idea what’s going on or what they’re talking about, but it feels like they’re talking about me.

My mother — well, I guess Melissa isn’t my mother — gets right up in his face, her eyes spewing anger at him. “I will have what’s mine, Troy. Don’t you even think for one second this is over. She will die, one way or another.” She looks my way, her rage suffocating the room. “And you, have fun in the little community. You won’t survive a day.” She smirks before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving me with a million questions.

I look up at my father, about to ask for an explanation, when his hands come down on either side of my face. “I’m so sorry, baby girl, but I have to do this.”

A burning heat comes from his hands and I feel my eyes roll back in my head before … nothing.