Finally Free

52

S O P H I A | facing my fears

disclaimer: this chapter includes flashbacks of the trial and the night sophia was assaulted. it does go into some description of what owen did to her so this is a warning in advance.

My foot bounces up and down on the plush, leather couches as I wait for Ripley in the lobby of his office. I check my phone for the time every 30 seconds, growing frustrated when the time doesn't change and I'm too nervous to realize my actions.

A cup gets placed in front of me, I look up to see Ripley, smiling at me. I stand up and he firmly wraps his arms around me. "Jasmine tea, is it still your favorite?" He asks and I nod. We spent so many mornings with my mother discussing the case in coffee shops, I'm not surprised he remembered my order.

"Hey Ripley." I whisper, my voice hoarse.
"Hey kid, how have you been?" I just shrug in response, unable to find another answer. He takes a seat across from me, "So here's the thing, Owen is back in prison for now, he's remanded until further trial, the judge wasn't happy with what he did. I'm hoping for another year added for the parole violation." My shoulders sag at his words, all of me wishes he'd stay in there forever.

"He was supposed to serve 5 to 10 and somehow it got reduced to barely 2. Good behavior my ass." I scoff, irritated at the system. "Sophia, we can get him back in. The conditions were clear, he was not to contact you or come within 1,000 yards of you or anyone in your family. He violated that when he messaged you and the police traced the message back to his home."

"So how come I'm allowed to talk to him today?"

"Special circumstances."

"Well he was never the brightest." I joke sarcastically, looking down at the floor. "Yeah let's just be grateful that Owen is an idiot and didn't even bother to hide his tracks." Ripley laughs quietly and I just exhale a short laugh.

I sit in silence for a few minutes, my thumb in between my teeth, sometimes picking up the tea and sipping it. "What's on your mind Sophia?" Ripley's voice starles me a little bit. "Just remembering the trial." He nods, listening.

"I just keep remembering how every tiny little aspect of my life was put under a microscope, every time I took drugs was brought up, they told the jury what I was wearing. As if it justified what he did."

"I know, but they found him guilty, you let down your walls to the jury and they believed you. We need to appreciate that win."

"I can't Ripley, I'm scared."
"So why are you here?" He's not asking out of irritation, he's trying to help me rationalize this with myself.

I look up at Ripley, my lips pressed together, I sigh, "facing my fears." I trill my lips, sipping from tea again.

✿✿✿

"Tell me Ms. Carrington what kind of drugs are you addicted to?" Micheal Brubaker, Owen's hotshot, 1,000 dollar an hour lawyer asks me. My breathing is shallow, my bottom lip quivering as I reply into the microphone, "Painkillers." I sound like a weak, timid little girl. I was only 16, being put through this emotional hell, being forced to relive it all.

"Tell me Ms. Carrington, is it true you would steal your father's prescription pad to get high?"

"Objection, relevance?" Ripley snaps, standing up, stopping the questioning. "Goes to the credit of the witness." Brubaker replies quickly.

"Overruled, the witness will answer the question." Judge Miranda Harmon says sternly and Ripley sighs and sits back down. Honestly, I was thankful to have a female judge, it's more comforting, but she still has to be fair.