Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
An uncomfortable silence falls over the courtroom as Judge’s words settle over us all. I’m staring at the back of his head, my heart beating three times faster than I know it probably should. Santi’s gaze is on him too. As are every pair of eyes up on the dais.
“I had no idea you had it in you to say so many thoughtful words about someone, Lawson,” Hildebrand snorts. “But I suppose you’ve had your practice, haven’t you? This is exactly the type of defense that would sway you in your own courtroom.”
The councilor’s response deflates me immediately, the small moment of comfort I felt from Judge’s testimony dissipating into the void. What Hildebrand said makes sense, and that’s far easier to believe than the genuine sentiments from a man who’s practically told me he’s incapable of love.
“If you aren’t here to listen to us testify to my sister’s character,” Santi interjects, “then what is the purpose of this charade?”
Hildebrand narrows his gaze at my brother before turning his appraising eyes on me. “Character testimony can be saved for later. You are correct in that, Santiago. Let’s get on with the questions then, shall we?”
He gestures with his hand, and I see he has a remote. It’s only after he presses a button that I realize they’re actually going to show us the surveillance footage. I feel like I’m going to be sick all over again as the white screen at the front of the room flickers to life, and the video starts to play.
It’s undoubtedly footage from Lana’s apartment. I recognize the setting right away, my eyes moving to the very lamp I used to end her life. I clutch at my stomach, swaying slightly as Santi holds me tighter in his grasp. And then I watch in horror as one of the worst nights of my life is replayed for me.
On screen, I enter the apartment, pushing my way inside as soon as she opens the door. We have words. She laughs in my face, denies ever betraying me as she looks me in the eyes and tells me I’m insane. I grab her by the arm and tell her she’s coming with me, trying to hold her hostage with the small knife in my other hand. In retrospect, it was a stupid move, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. All I knew was that my brother had almost died again, and she had done it. She had poisoned him, and there was no alternative. She had to pay. But things didn’t go the way I thought.
Lana had some kind of self-defense training, and it became obvious when she disarmed me quickly and tried to swing the knife at my throat. I blocked her with my purse and then threw it at her face before I launched myself at her with everything I had. We both tumbled to the floor, and the knife skittered beneath the sofa. But it didn’t end there.
She came at me with an unexpected fury inside her, throwing her fists at my ribs, my chest, my throat, anywhere she could reach. I hadn’t ever been in a physical fight before. I was fighting blindly, throwing out haphazard slaps and punches, when she flipped me onto my side and socked me in the gut so hard I couldn’t breathe. Then she grabbed me by the hair, slamming my head against the floor, disorienting me. That’s when she started to crawl for the knife, and I knew only one of us was getting out of there alive.
I don’t even know how I staggered to my knees and grabbed the heavy glass lamp from the table. It must have been a moment of adrenaline. A pure survival instinct. I didn’t wait for her fingers to latch around the knife before I slammed the fat end of the lamp against the back of her skull. It made contact with a thud, and she grunted as she collapsed but recovered far too quickly. She was still reaching, still trying to get the knife, and I knew if she did, I was dead.
I don’t know what came over me at that point, but it’s obvious to everyone I was more animal than human as I hit her in the side of the face with all my might. All my rage boiled to the surface as she fell back and hit the floor with a sickening crack. But still she slapped weak hands at me, even as I crawled on top of her and thrust the lamp down in her face. Again and again and again, I released my pain and anger over what she’d done. At the life she almost stole from me. The only family I had left.
It wasn’t until the glass finally shattered in my hands and my jarring bellows came to an abrupt halt that I realized she was no longer moving. Her face was unrecognizable. It was gory and disfigured, but it was the crimson oozing from her skull that sealed my fate. The reality I accepted far too slowly on the screen, holding my bloodied hands in front of me and releasing a heart-wrenching sob.