The Helford Trials (Helford #3)

Chapter Four

Hey guys!

Small but important announcement: I recently decided that, instead of making THT an extension, a third book, after Toy Soldiers and Playing God, I have made it a spin-off.

It's not not necessary to read this book in order to get a full ending for the Helford Series. However, you have to have read Toy Soldiers and Playing God before this story, as it contains spoilers.

Thank you!

x Riley

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Even after Shawn's shockingly uneventful trial, in hindsight, Valerie's was a much more quiet affair. There was no fanfare from the press about her—she was an asterisk next to the name Caitie Alastair, a second thought, but I don't think she minded it. I don't think Valerie ever really wanted to be seen, not by anyone. Even at Helford, she lingered in the wings, observing the goings-on and the broken souls that passed through her office without necessarily having to pick up a gun herself.

She always knew who her sister was, who she would always be. Valerie was always content to stay in Caitie's shadow only as long as her sister was there to cast it. There was none of that comfort there now, and I think it made her uneasy.

Valerie must have been restlessly pacing the room for twenty minutes before Meade finally looked away from the soccer match playing on the television and told her, "Stop moving."

"I don't think I can," she replied sincerely, halfway to full panic. She was dressed and ready for her trial, looking professional and well put-together in a black dress complete with a pearl necklace and earrings. Her hair was done neatly in waves all around her head, all down her back. She looked insanely pretty. If we were in any other situation, I might have told her as much but, for some reason, I couldn't look at her without thinking of the way Parker used to talk about her when she wasn't there, his face lit up and his tone soft and calm in a way it hadn't been much back then.

"You will," Meade responded to Valerie simply, snapping me back into the thread of time, "because you have to."

Valerie reached up and pressed the heels of her hands hard against her eyes, like maybe that would be enough to help her breathe. When her hands fell away, she looked so painfully young.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Valerie whispered, reaching down for the thousandth time to flatten the hem of her dress. I wanted to reach out and pull her hand away, annoyance tingling under my skin, but I knew it wasn't about that. I wasn't mad at Valerie for a nervous tick, or anxiety. I was angry that she was being forced into this position at all, only barely less than two months after she buried her long-term boyfriend and her older sister. Of all the things in this trial that didn't seem fair, this seemed like one of the worst things. One of the most unfair things. And although I knew that was what always happened when someone went on trial, it hit just a little bit harder when I now understood almost exactly what she was going through.

I did not have my own trial, so I would not truly understand. But I would not wish this fate on Valerie, not when she was already in such a dark and difficult place as she was now. I wished I could protect her from this, but even I was not enough to save the only thing Caitie ever would have wanted me to.

Even Meade was making more of an effort than usual. He was already dressed in his suit, his hair combed back. By the expression on his face, he looked ready to go into battle. By the way he clung to the lapels of his own jacket, he looked like a nervous five-year-old about to give a speech to his kindergarten class. He hadn't even wanted to go, wanted to shy away from the action as much as possible, trying to pretend he was paying attention to a football match so we wouldn't notice the way he got antsier and antsier with each passing day his trial approached, because Meade knew what would happen when people looked into his name.