It's a Wonderful Death - Sarah J. Schmitt Page 0,66
out of last chances. If this treatment didn’t work, I was ready to stop. I was tired of fighting against something I couldn’t beat. I had friends. I had a boyfriend.” She looks at the audience. “Daniel and I grew close in such a short time. Really, I have Felicity sucking RJ back in to thank for that. Without her being around, he spent more time with me. Then, one day, he kissed me.”
I swear I heard a collective sigh rise up from everyone in the courtroom, angels and souls alike. Madeline is holding them in the palm of her hand and she doesn’t even know it.
I study Madeline. I know I adore her, but what is it about her that captivates everyone she meets? Suddenly, I feel overwhelmed with sadness. Even if I get what I want, she won’t be a part of my life anymore. There is no changing her future.
Azbaugh looks directly at me as he asks the next question. “What was RJ like in the first timeline?”
Madeline clasps her hands in her lap and stares down at them, her chin dipping down to her chin. “She was evil.”
Chapter 27
The entire room gasps. I’m pretty sure they’ve never heard Madeline say anything negative about anybody. I, on the other hand, crack up. Partly because it’s funny and partly because of the look of absolute horror on Madeline’s face. I wonder what it’s like to be that nice.
“I didn’t have a choice,” she sputters. “It’s this place.” She looks at me with tears in her eyes. “I can’t lie. But I would if I could. If it would help you. This isn’t fair.” She turns to Azbaugh. “You don’t know her. You don’t know how much stronger she is than the rest of them. She deserves a second chance.”
While she’s pleading my case, two thoughts go through my head. One: how could I have been such an idiot to spend so much time with my fake friends when there were real ones there the whole time? And two: I’m pretty sure Madeline’s outburst is going to be the topic of conversation for centuries to come.
“Madeline Quinn,” Azbaugh says, but there’s no harshness in his voice like there is when he talks to me.
Wait a minute. How come when he says her name the walls don’t rattle? I look at Madeline, seeing her, I mean really seeing her for the first time. A faint glow radiates from every inch of her body as if she is made of pure goodness.
“No,” Madeline says. “You have to listen to me.”
“Madeline,” Azbaugh repeats. This time he’s a little testier. “Please, calm yourself.”
She sits back against her chair in a huff. When she locks eyes with me, I want to reach out and comfort her. But she’s full of surprises.
“I’m so sorry,” she mouths, and I’m pretty sure she’s on the verge of a breakdown.
I shake my head and smile. “Don’t be,” is all I can whisper before the tears choke the rest of my words. How in the world did I ever get a best friend like her? Okay, sure, I had to make a lot of people mad and become a social pariah, but still, in the end I’m the one who got a better deal. “Whatever happens, I’ll be okay. It’s not like I’m a Chilean coal miner,” I say.
Madeline lets out a giggle. “You’re never going to let me forget my obsession with that mine collapse, are you? Do I need to remind you that I was stuck in my bed, post–bone marrow transplant, and there was nothing else on TV? And, it was nice to see that someone else was having a rougher time than I was. It was, no, it is a perfect mantra. You should get one for yourself and stop stealing mine.”
The sensation that we’re sharing a private joke floods over me. In my first life, a private joke always came at someone else’s expense. But with Madeline, there’s no viciousness, only comfort.
Azbaugh is clearly not happy with our banter and instead turns to Sal. “Are you finished with this witness?” he asks coldly.
Sal nods and turns to Madeline. “Thank you for your testimony. You may step down.”
She slowly slips off the chair and looks from Azbaugh to me. I can tell she’s thinking about doing something but isn’t sure how the Tribunal will react. Finally, she makes up her mind and rushes around the table, throwing her arms around my neck.