Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) - By Caitlyn Robertson Page 0,45

he continued. “We’re here to decide whether she knowingly attacked this man with the intention of harming him. We aren’t here to debate whether James Hill deserved what he got. Or whether Sarah was justified in doing what she did. Because if that was the case, I’m sure the vote would look very different. But the judge instructed us to leave our emotions outside of the jury room. He said that because he wanted us to look at the facts. And I think maybe, my dear, you need to remove yourself from the emotions of this case and try to do that.”

Honey clenched her fingers tightly in her lap. He was right—of course he was right. She didn’t want to convict Sarah because she knew how desperate the woman must have felt. She hated James Hill, his smug superior look, his obvious belief the jury would find Sarah guilty. She wanted to punish him for what he’d done to Sarah by setting her free, and in doing so send a message to other men that it wasn’t okay to treat women in this way, and if they did, they wouldn’t get away with it.

But she couldn’t do that. A person couldn’t take the law into their own hands, no matter what had been done to them. That wasn’t justice—it was revenge, and as good as revenge may feel, society couldn’t have everyone running around being their own judge and jury.

Did she truly believe Sarah was innocent? Deep her heart, Honey didn’t. Sarah hadn’t looked terrified in the dock—she’d only looked at James with love in her eyes. If the woman had been so terrified of her ex coming into her home, she would have put the chain across and pushed a chair against the handle. Or moved out to live with a friend. She probably wanted James to come back to her. Maybe, when he’d let himself in, she’d started by pleading with him to come back before she attacked him. Or maybe her hatred had been such that she’d gone straight for him.

Whichever, she was most likely guilty, and Honey couldn’t fight that any longer. She’d wanted to be Henry Fonda in Twelve Angry Men and convince everyone to change their view to her own, but that wasn’t going to happen.

She nodded at Tom.

“Let’s take another vote,” Tom said quietly. “Please raise your hand if you think Sarah Green is guilty.”

Twelve hands rose.

Tom sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll let the court assistant know.”

Within minutes they were filing back to the courtroom. Honey had read To Kill A Mockingbird as a student and could still remember Harper Lee’s assurance that a jury whose members had voted guilty refused to look at the defendant as they came into the courtroom. She risked a glance along the jury box as they took their seats—not one of them glanced in Sarah’s direction.

The judge asked Tom if they had come to a verdict—Tom said yes, and delivered the guilty result. Only then did Honey glance up. Sarah’s shoulders had sagged and tears ran down her face.

Honey closed her eyes.

It took only minutes for the case to round up. The judge announced he would deliver the sentence at a later date and they were free to go.

Honey walked quickly from the courtroom, too emotional to talk to anyone. She almost ran to her car and got in, clipped the seatbelt and then drove hurriedly away.

The tears came as she left the town. Floods of them, and eventually she pulled over and leaned on the steering wheel, sobbing into her hands. She’d done the right thing. She was just over emotional because it had been her mother’s anniversary, and because Dex was nervous about the wedding and that in turn was making her nervous.

But deep down, she knew it was more than that. She was probably the only one in that courtroom who understood what had driven Sarah to pick up that knife. If she hadn’t voted guilty, maybe a new jury would have voted her innocent. But Sarah would never know how Honey had tied herself in knots over the case. Would never know how much it would haunt her.

After a while, the intense emotion abated, leaving her exhausted and depressed. She sat back in the seat and looked out at the rain-soaked landscape.

At that moment, the clouds parted and let through a flash of sunlight, and in the fields something glinted, dazzling her. She caught her breath, reminded vividly of the