Page 21 of Glass Wings

Rick stands. “Your Honor, given the testimony today we renew our request for bail.”

The judge shakes his head once. “Denied. Defendant will remain in custody pending trial.”

The words hollow me out. Harley’s shoulders sag in the gallery, tears spilling, despite her trying to hold them back. Kennedy wraps an arm around her, pulling her close.

The deputy yanks me to my feet. The chains rattle violently. As I’m led out, I look back one last time. Harley’s eyes find mine, wide and wet and broken. I mouth the only thing I can manage through the wreckage of everything collapsing again.

I’m sorry.

And then the doors close behind me.

Twelve

HARLEY

Kennedy sits on the edge of my bed while I finish applying my makeup. She hasn’t said much since she arrived twenty minutes ago, her blonde hair straightened to perfection and makeup flawless, dressed in a business casual pantsuit. She’s being called to the stand today to defend Easton.

I was surprised when she told me, especially since her emotions about that night are still scattered, but she doesn’t trust her boyfriend or his friends. She knows Easton only had good intentions toward us and was taking a stand.

She won’t tell me what’s going on with Ethan, just that she can’t believe he would defend his friend for drugging her drink. Honestly, the more I hear about him, the more convinced I am that he told his friend to do it so he could do whatever he wanted to Kennedy that night. The thought sends chills down my spine, and I haven’t had the courage to tell her either.

I apply a light layer of gloss to my lips and look over my reflection. Easton never answered my letter about the next court date, but Rick called and informed me to appear as the heartbroken fiancée. I hope the minimal makeup, circles beneath my eyes, and dress I’m wearing convey whatever it is the judge needs to see.

“Thank you for doing this,” I say. Kennedy is staring at her pink nails when I step into the bedroom, but her blue eyes soften when they land on me.

“I’d do anything for you.” She stands and wraps me in a hug. “You’re my best friend, and deep down I know, despite how angry I am at Easton, that he would never intentionally do anything to jeopardize your relationship. I hoped that Ethan was the same kind of man, but he isn’t.”

“Do you want to talk about what’s going on?”

She shakes her head. “Not today, I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

“My offer still stands, there’s a big empty guest room and I would love the company.”

She smiles, a tear rolling down her cheek. She’s quick to swipe it away. “You really want to be roommates again huh? And to think about how much we hated each other back then.”

“Isn’t the old saying to keep your enemies close or something.” I lift a brow and she bursts out laughing at my lame attempt to make a joke.

“Don’t ever quit your day job, comedy is not your strong suit.”

I shrug, grateful I made her laugh, and together we leave the apartment. The ride to the courthouse is silent. I’ve been so nervous for today, I don’t know much about how the legal system works, but Rick’s informed me it’s a preliminary trial. After a lot of research, I found out that today is actually very crucial to the case they’re forming against Easton. I just pray Rick can work some kind of miracle.

The courtroom is colder than I expect. It’s not the kind of cold you feel in your bones, but the kind that seeps under your skin anyway, leaving you stiff and uncomfortable. I told myself it’s just the air conditioning, but I know better. It’s the atmosphere. The silence that presses down, thick with judgment and waiting.

Kennedy sits beside me, her arm brushing mine a steady weight against the shaking that won’t stop in my hands. I’ve twisted my fingers together so tightly the skin is red and raw, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except what’s about to happen.

And then the doors open.

The chains come first. I hear them before I see him. That awful clinking that scrapes across my nerves and makes my stomach roll. When Easton walks in, shoulders squared but eyes shadowed, my heart splinters into a thousand pieces. He looks both like the man I love and someone I don’t recognize at all.

Confined. Diminished. Caged.

I want nothing more than to run to him. To touch his face, to tell him everything would be okay. But all I can do is sit here and grip Kennedy’s hand until my knuckles ache.

“Defendant seated,” the bailiff barks.

Defendant. Not Easton. Not the man who held me when I cried. Not the man who whispered he wasn’t going anywhere. Just another name in a file.

I hate it. I hate all of it.