Cruel State of Mind

01. twisting the knife

"But I'm innocent!" Christopher's hand hits the table loud enough for the guard to approach us, but Sebastian puts his hand up, indicating him to stay where he is. "You are my lawyers, shouldn't you believe me?" Christopher continues. "You should be on my side."

"I am your lawyer, Mr. Williams, but I don't have to believe you. I don't even have to prove your innocence. My job is to demonstrate that the prosecutor doesn't have sufficient evidence to establish your guilt beyond a reasonable doubt." Sebastian leans in, resting both arms on the table and interlacing his fingers in front of him. "Regardless of my opinion about your innocence, of course," he adds with that annoying, taunting smirk.

Sebastian can look convincing when he wants to. That's something he learned from Lawrence. What is a lawyer without the power of conviction after all, right? It's easier said than done, though.

"What Mr. Griffiths is trying to say," I jump in, hoping Sebastian won't try to cut me off like he usually does, "is that yes, we're here to help you. No one should ever pay for a crime they didn't commit, okay?" I see a flash of relief in Christopher's face, but I can also feel Sebastian shooting me stares. "However, we have to be neutral. And we have to know absolutely everything so that we can help you."

Chris' dark brown eyes look more dim every time I come here. I guess prison can do that to a person. I should know.

"When you were interrogated, you said you didn't know the victim. Now, turns out you did. Why did you lie?" Sebastian continues. He never wastes time.

"I was scared, okay? I was interrogated for hours and hours. They ignored me when I requested a lawyer, and they wouldn't even let me call my mom! Isn't that illegal?"

Sebastian doesn't respond. He keeps taking notes on his iPad. Of course, everything Christopher is telling us is important. This, the violation of due process, should be enough to let him go, but I'm afraid it won't be that easy. The victim of this grotesque crime was Melissa Hale, daughter of Senator Hale.

"Look," Christopher looks at me this time as if he's given up trying to explain to Sebastian. "I didn't know Melissa Hale, the rich and privileged daughter of a powerful man. I knew Melissa, the aspiring writer who lived here in New York, who was kind and fun. We were classmates, and we were friends, so yes, I did go to her apartment a few times but I did not kill her."

The gray walls around us start closing in, or at least that's what it feels like. The air is too thick in here. It feels asphyxiating.

"Don't you think it has to do with her being the only daughter of Senator Hale? The D.A. has the press breathing down their necks, and—"

"Why don't you let us look at the facts first, Mr. Williams? We can't base our case on some kind of conspiracy theory."

Christopher rolls his eyes at Sebastian and then looks at me. There's something in him that I've only seen once before. The kind of desperation that comes from knowing your life is in the hands of someone who's determined to ruin it.

"Excuse me." I get up and walk as fast as I can toward the door, and once I'm out I keep walking until I make it to the restroom. I place both hands on the sink and take a few deep breaths, refusing to look at my reflection in the mirror. If I look now, I know what I'll find: that same scared little girl I once was, filled with grief and anger. And I don't want to ever see her again.

The light bulb on the ceiling starts flickering, making this grubby, stinky place look like it belongs in a horror movie. When I finally gather the courage to walk out, Sebastian is already waiting outside. He's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.