I scrubbed my hands in the sink for what felt like the millionth time. I had never been in a courthouse before. It was kind of scary, knowing I was around real criminals. Perhaps in the bathroom with one right now. I looked around me timidly when the door swung open. In walked Mrs. Paxton, the judge’s wife. Shit. I had seen her on TV. Luckily she walked right up to the mirror and hardly noticed my presence.

“Can you believe the press out there?” She laughed, checking her reflection.

“I’m sorry?”

“The press dear. They’re everywhere. Trying to get a glimpse at the little slut who killed my husband I assume.”

“Oh.” She knew they were here to see her. Was she trying to figure out if I was the girl from the club?

“I swear this case is giving me so many wrinkles my Botox doctor is going to have a field day.”

I didn’t respond.

She shrugged. “Good luck with whatever you’re here for honey. Watch out for the lawyers, they’ll eat you alive.” She cackled as she left and I considered going to the bathroom again just to put time and space between myself and her toxic personality. She was not the crying widow I had seen on TV.

Minutes later I sat in the wooden chair in the back of the courtroom, waiting for my name to be called. I was jittery, and my legs wouldn’t stay still. Monique sighed and gave me a look for the fifth time. I knew she was getting annoyed, but I was terrified. Not only could I say something on the stand that would accidentally incriminate me, but if I was proven innocent there was a band of drug dealers who might kill me. I stared out the window next to me and considered my options. Monique had a plan and I just had to follow it. And I had to pray it worked out in my favor.

The lawyer stopped talking again and it snapped me back to my current reality. They had already questioned his driver and his daughter, and both were visibly upset about his death. I worried that I would look guilty because I didn't really care about him. I certainly felt bad that he was gone, but I didn't know him well enough to be sad about it. I was afraid that I would look bitter and cold.

I leaned over and whispered to Monique, “Should I look emotional?”

She shook her head but didn't say anything.

I looked out the window that was next to me once more, and tried to think about my freedom. A lot was on the line here, and I was hopeful that it would all be over soon.

“We’d like to call Calla Hart to the stand, please.”

Monique whispered, “Follow the plan.”

I stood and straightened my skirt before crossing in front of Monique and walking up the aisle onto the stand. I had never been so terrified in my entire life.

As I passed Mrs. Paxton she gave me a steely glare. So she hadn’t known who I was in the bathroom, she wasn’t playing dumb.

“Please state your name for the court records.”

“Calla Elizabeth Hart.” My palms were sweaty. I looked to Monique for a surge of confidence but I couldn’t find her in the crowd.

The lawyer stood in front of me in a black suit with a dark gold tie around his neck. He was in his late twenties, and I was surprised that someone so young worked for the District Attorney's Office.

“Ms. Hart, can you please explain to the court how are you knew Judge Paxton?”

“Yes. I actually didn't know him very well. We had only just met.”

I heard the wife mumble, “liar,” under her breath. She wasn’t going to make this easy on me.

“And did you know who he was?”

“Not really. He had told me his line of work, but that's all I was really privy to.”

He put his hands behind his back, and walked back and forth in front of me. Monique had warned me that this was a scare tactic, and I was to remain calm. “So, you knew he was a judge?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Did he tell you he was married?”

I shook my head. “No, he didn't mention that.”

He stopped right in front of me, and looked me in the eye. “Were you going to have relations with him that evening?”

I didn't know how to respond. Monique hadn’t mentioned that question. “I don't know. I don't think so. He invited me up to his room to talk after we met at the bar. I don't think that his intentions were to get me in bed.”

Mrs. Paxton shook her head. I could tell she didn’t believe me.

“But he didn't tell you about his wife?”

“No. He didn't mention her, as I've already stated.”

He nodded, and then turned away for me again, walking over to the table where he had been sitting. “Can you tell me why he wrote a check for four thousand dollars that evening?”

My breath caught in my chest. Monique had said the money was untraceable; no one would have known that I was paid. But this guy sure as hell sounded like he knew he was talking about.

“No. I don't know why he wrote a check for that amount of money, or to whom he wrote it. We didn't talk about money.”

That wasn’t a lie, per se.

He made a face. “You’re sure? You have no idea when he wrote that check?”

I shook my head. “Definitely not. I mean we had a tab at the bar, but it couldn’t have been even close to that much.” I tried to act like I wasn’t sure, confused even. The lawyer moved on.

“There was a time when the two of you weren't together. Why is that?”

This one I was prepared for. “He invited me up to his hotel room, but I wanted to freshen up first. We had been in a smoky bar, and I smelled terrible. I went home to change, and he sent a town car for me. Then, I went to the room and I waited.”

“And where did Judge Paxton go while you freshened up?” He had a sarcastic tone to his voice.

“I don't know. He didn't say. But I assume he went home.”

“You assume?”

I tried to breathe. I looked over to the jury and I could tell one older woman was assessing me. She was trying to decide if I was being truthful. It was terrifying.

“Miss Hart?”

“I’m sorry. Yes. He had mentioned wanting to relax at home. Like I said, he didn't mention his wife.”

“Right. Why would he want to relax?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think he wanted to take something to relax?”

The plan was set perfectly, just as Monique had said at the club. She was better at this than I had given her credit for. “You mean, like a pill?” I looked at the wife, her skin was turning red. She knew what I was doing.

“Yes, some type of medication.”

His wife continued to stare me down. I could see her blood was boiling.

“I would ask his pharmacist that. Or his wife. Not me. I wouldn’t know.”

Suddenly, the wife stood up from the defense table, “Of course you would, you little bitch! You knew he wanted to sleep with you! You knew it! You’re just like all the rest. I couldn’t let it go on!”

The whole courtroom gasped at her admission of guilt. It wasn’t a smoking gun, but it was enough. Monique had been right; set off the wife, and I would be in the clear.

“Order, order in the court! Mr. Defasy, I suggest you contain your client.”

The defense lawyer stood calmly. “Yes, your Honor, I apologize for her outburst.”

The wife sat back down, but it was clear that she was the one who had ended Judge Paxton's life. She had had enough of his call girls, and I just happened to be the unlucky soul that was with him the night she ended it. Monique had heard at the club that he took Viagra on occasion, even though he wasn’t currently sleeping with any of the girls. The wife had switched the pill. We knew it. It was her fault.

The lawyer from the District Attorney's Office turned on me once more, but his questions lightened up significantly. “When was the last time you spoke to Judge Paxton?”

“At the bar. When we made plans to meet at his hotel room.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hart.” He turned to address the judge. “The prosecution rests, your Honor.”

The defense didn't even cross-examine me. The lawyer knew that he couldn't win the case, and he requested a recess instead. As Monique and I walked out of the courthouse, I assumed he was talking to his client about cutting a deal. She had no other way out. I was free.

The media didn’t even notice me leave.

No questions about the club.

My secret was safe.