to a small, tidy bedroom. “The bathroom’s down the hall,” he said, pointing toward it. “You hungry?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to impose . . .”
“I wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t welcome. Terry always makes too much anyways. Dinner’ll be ready in about twenty minutes or so. Make yourself comfortable and holler if you need anything.”
Cait took a shower in the green-and-pink-tiled bathroom, watching as the dirt and blood sluiced off her skin and down the drain. She was careful to wipe down the tub and the floor afterward—she could tell they kept things clean, and she didn’t want them to think she was dirty—and then pulled on the same leggings and sweatshirt and headed into the kitchen.
The smell of frying onions and garlic and spices hit her as soon as she walked in, and all at once she realized her hunger. She thought of Rebecca in a jail cell and felt a pang of guilt as she was ushered to the dinner table. Would they give Rebecca something to eat that night? Would they lock her up with a bunch of criminals, or would she be all alone? Would she get any sleep? Was she terrified?
The man’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “You’re not one of those vegetarians, are you?” he asked as he picked up her plate and moved toward the stove.
She laughed. “Nope. I’ll eat just about anything.”
“Good. I’m Jim, by the way, and this is my wife, Terry.”
The woman at the stove gave her a wave. “Nice to have you here. Tonight’s chili night—I hope you came hungry.”
“Cait. And chili sounds great, thank you.”
The three of them sat down to dinner and ate in companionable silence. They asked her a few questions—where she was from, what she was doing out here—and she answered them as politely and vaguely as she could muster. The chili was good—spicy and warming—and by the end of the meal, she felt a little stronger. She insisted on doing the dishes. They invited her to watch TV with them, but she begged off as tired and went straight to her room.
She lay in bed, listening to the faint murmur from the TV in the next room, and stared up at the ceiling fan. She was bone-tired, but now that she finally had the opportunity to sleep, she was wide awake and jittery. All she could think about was Rebecca in her jail cell across town and what she might be facing the next day.
Cait pulled her phone out of her bag. Lisa had mentioned that the story had been in the news. She wondered now if she could find something about it. She pulled up the Internet—a strong signal, finally—and typed Rebecca’s name into the search engine.
There were three dozen news hits from the last twelve hours alone.
“Senate Hopeful Hailed as Pro-Life Hero After Suing Wife”
“Rebecca McRae Arrested Following Injunction Order Preventing Abortion”
“Antiabortion Activists Make Gains in Texas”
“Is This the End of Roe v. Wade?”
“McRae Rises in Polls Following Legal Action”
“Ten Things to Know About Rebecca McRae”
As Cait scrolled through the sound bites and hot takes, the sick feeling that had come over her began to deepen. Rebecca wasn’t just facing a judge tomorrow morning; she was facing the public. And Cait knew better than most that the public had the power to act as judge, jury, and executioner far more than a court of law.
She needed to do everything in her power to make sure Rebecca was prepared.
She jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to the living room, where Jim and Terry were watching a repeat of Law & Order. They looked up as she came through the door. “You need something, hon?” Terry asked, hitting the mute button.
“This is going to sound like a weird question,” she said, “but is there anywhere around here where I can buy clothes tomorrow morning?”
“There’s a Family Dollar on Cowboy Way. They usually have a few things. You suddenly struck with the shopping bug?”
Cait smiled at her. “Something like that. Do you know what time they open tomorrow?”
Lubbock County Courthouse, Lubbock, Texas
The cameras were rolling when the police cruiser pulled up to the Lubbock County Courthouse. Rebecca knew she looked awful—the scrape on her forehead had scabbed over, and her hair was slicked back and dark with grease—but she was wearing the outfit that Cait had dropped off at the Yoakum jail that morning, and wearing it made her feel slightly more in control.