Rescue

Part 22: Preparations

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Noah POV

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It's Saturday morning. Last night I received word that Adora's trial date was set. Ray suggested we meet at this cafe since it's walking distance from his place.

I take a sip of my hot chocolate and hear the door open. Ray comes towards me quickly, sitting in the chair opposite of me.

"Here, I ordered for you," I said and slid a cup of coffee, per his request, to his half of the table. "We certainly have a lot to discuss."

"What day will it be?" he worriedly asks.

"It's gonna be tomorrow. I'm gonna be speaking as a witness." I take a shaky breath and drop my head in defeat. "I don't know what the hell to say."

"What about me? Can I come?" he asks, nearly squeezing the coffee out of his cup.

"You know her personally, so you can be in the audience. Everyone else will probably be watching on television," I explain.

"Television?!" He freezes, putting his cup in the table and focusing intensely on me. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

I scratch my temple and give him an apologetic look. "They're gonna be airing the trial nationally, since the search for her extended to the whole country."

"What the hell?" He drums his fingers on the table. "Did you guys even consent to this?"

"We don't have a choice, for some reason. She'll be speaking with an attorney today."

He nods and takes a sip of his coffee, a worried look remaining on his face.

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Adora POV

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A clanging sound wakes me up. I've gotten so used to being in this stupid cell that I haven't been waking up surprised. I've accepted routine, now.

At the door is the same cop that told me my trial was national. I give her a questioning look, holding back from looking at her with threatening eyes.

"Your attorney is here to see you, come on," she explains. My eyes widen and she cuffs my hands behind my back. Attorney?

We exit my cell and she takes me down a long hallway, holding me by the arm. In all directions I see other prisoners in their cells, no sense of joy coming from any of them. One looks at me with sad yet hopeful eyes, giving me a small nod. I nod back and the cop stops me.

She opens a door and leads me to a white room with two chairs and a table in it. I see a woman sitting in the chair, probably in her 50s or so. Her hair is beginning to silver at the roots, yet she sports a half-up look making her look younger. I look down and notice she's wearing shiny black stiletto heels and a black business dress.

The cop sits me down in front of the woman at the opposite side of the table. I give up trying to get comfortable with my hands behind my back.

"You can leave, we don't need a police officer in here," the woman says, looking at the cop. The cop nods with a dirty look and leaves, giving me a look that warns me not to try anything.

We sit in silence when the door closes. I keep my head down when I feel the woman's eyes on me, studying me.

"My name is Gail Ainsley," the woman softly speaks. I look up slightly and see her giving me a gentle smile. "I'm going to be your attorney for your trial, tomorrow."

I choke back a gasp and try my best to speak casually. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes. Did they not tell you?" I shake my head and Gail sighs. "The police in this area really aren't good at their jobs, to be honest."

My eyes widen at her bold statement and I look around quickly. She lets out a laugh and waves at me to get my attention, making me focus back on her.

"We're not being recorded. Everything you say will stay between you and me unless you give me permission to say it in court." I slowly nod and look at her hands, They're well manicured but not overdone. Each of her nails are light pink, reflecting light from where her hands are resting on the table.

She continues to speak to me when she figures out I am listening. "Can you tell me exactly what happened that night?" I swallow hard.

"I stabbed a girl with a knife and ran from the police," I quickly say, quieter than I normally am in everyday conversation. She says nothing and I hear her tapping her nail on the table.

"I don't believe you," she states, making me choke on air. I look at her with a confused expression and she elaborates. "You seem like you're hiding something. You can trust me, I won't tell anyone."

I consider telling her the truth. Noah did it in self-defense... right? She seems trustworthy. Perhaps she can know.

"Are you alright? You practically have steam coming out of your ears." She laughs softly and I smile slightly. I think I can trust her, I'll just give her part of the truth.

"I covered for someone else," I whisper. She miraculously hears me and nods empathetically.

"I had a feeling you didn't do it. Nothing added up in the autopsy report."

"What do you mean?" I ask her, slightly more confident than before.

"The autopsy report explained that it was mostly likely that whoever killed her was left-handed, but your files say that you're right handed. On top of that, no personal relations were reported between you and the victim, just mutual relations."

"Um... I have a question," I weakly say.

"What's up, sweetheart?" She leans in slightly to let me know she's listening.

"If someone kills someone purely in self-defense, would they be punished for it?"

"Depending on the extent, it can go unpunished and be ruled as a justifiable homicide."

"Wh-what kind of extents, exactly?"

"If the act of murder was done in order to protect one's own life, it can and will be justified." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "Are you saying this murder was an act of self-defense?"

My breath hitches, thankful that she caught on to my concerns. I gulp and look her in the eye, feeling somewhat comforted by her concerned expression. "Yes, it was self-defense."

"And were you the one who she attacked?"

I stay silent, fighting back tears. A lump forms in my throat and my lower lip starts to quiver.

"Deep breaths, honey. We can take a break if you need to." I look up at her and half-smile for a split second.

"It was my twin brother, Noah. She was his girlfriend and she was physically abusive to him. I didn't want him to take the fall because he obviously didn't mean to do it, but she had a gun aimed at him. I just walked in and saw her bleeding on the floor and him standing there, absolutely terrified. I took the knife from him, we said our goodbyes, and we both ran away. I ran towards the police and made the knife visible to make sure they'd chase me and not him. I was terrified but I couldn't stop a-and-"

My words are interrupted by my own sobbing. I lay my head on the table and put my hands on it, letting myself sob hard, barely staying upright in my chair. I feel a hand on my upper back, rubbing in gentle patterns.

"I'll make some last minute preparations, honey. I'll get you back the life that you deserve."

I don't even think about whether it's allowed, I just turn around and hug her waist, holding on for dear life. She strokes my hair and stays with me while I cry, giving me the comfort of the mother I never had.