The Finished Masterpiece Boxed Set - Pepper Winters Page 0,251

re-orientation. She’d officially start back next week, once my fate was decided.

Justin had once again proven to be a friend who deserved a seat on the council of heaven. He was so selfless that it sometimes seemed sinister. I caught myself searching for an ulterior motive, some sign he was evil and running a long game like my uncle.

I almost wanted him to turn out to be a bad guy because I couldn’t accept that there were people as good as him. As good as O. They were the same. Two generous, loyal people who shouldn’t have to put up with the likes of me.

“Does your kid know what’s happening?” Brad asked, shuffling his legal pad and pen into orderly fashion on the desk. We sat in court, waiting for everything to begin.

I cleared my throat. “I told her I would still be close and that she can visit but that I won’t be living with her for a while.”

“How did it go?”

I laughed painfully. “Awful.”

“Always is.” He gave me a pitiful look. “Just remember, nothing lasts forever. Good, bad, terrible—it all passes in the end.”

I didn’t reply.

Last night, while hugging Olive, I’d done my best not to suffocate her, knowing my allotment of hugs had come to an end. Justin had given us privacy, vowing he’d guard her while I could not.

I’d never felt more destitute as I had in that moment. Asking another man to look after my own flesh and blood. I didn’t have shit in my bank account, and I didn’t have shit in my human worth to ever pay him back.

My heart pounded as more people trickled into the courtroom. Brad Scott had fought many cases, representing low-level criminals and white-collar, but I doubted he’d dealt with a case where the public stood outside the courthouse, demanding justice by cutting off my hands so I could never paint and then tying me to a tree to bleed out.

The family of the girls who’d been killed sat silently on the benches, waiting to hear my fate. A few journalists with pens poised over notepads and recording devices also waited for the show. It wasn’t a big audience—probably court requested so emotions didn’t get out of hand—but I had no support or friends in the sea of people who wanted me to die.

Justin was elsewise occupied.

And I hadn’t told O what time I would face judgement.

I didn’t want her to see my end.

My gaze danced around the space, not making eye contact with anyone. The overall atmosphere was of death and decay, ready to send me to a coffin rather than a cell.

The jury hadn’t come in yet. I didn’t know how courts worked or what I was in for.

I would learn as it unfolded and then suffer the consequences.

“How will this go?” I linked my hands together, thinking of the paint supplies and boxes that I’d put into storage that Justin had in his apartment building. I thought about Olive and her pretty smile and not being able to tuck her into bed tonight. I thought about the waste of a life all because I’d always been so fucking naïve and too proud to ask for help.

I wanted help today.

But I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“Well, you’re slightly different. The public have put pressure on the system which is why your court date has been rushed. You’ll be judged by a twelve-person jury. Once they’re sworn in, the prosecution will present the evidence. Call a few witnesses if they have any. Maybe call you to the stand. And then, it’s my turn. The judge has already read the case files but we’ll give our side of the story as candidly and as truthfully as you did when we rehearsed the other day. Okay?”

I nodded even though nausea ran through me. “Okay.”

“Good.” He brushed lint off his navy suit. “Once everything has been presented, the jury will deliberate, and the judge will oversee the verdict.”

“And then I go to prison.”

“Maybe.”

“But the chances of me going home tonight are nil.”

His eyes narrowed, not sugar-coating or making false promises. “You committed murder, Mr. Clark. You admitted to it. Unless a miracle happens today, you’re serving time. The question is how much and in what form.”

I settled back in the hard chair as more people dribbled in. Time took on a strange nightmare quality. My body felt as if quicksand sucked at me, sinking into the floor.

A loud clang sounded behind me as the double doors of the