♡ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ♡

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(Darry's POV)

"MR. DAYTON, please call to the stand your next witness."

The judge's voice broke me out of my thoughts, and my head turned to look at the prosecution table in front of me. Mr. Dayton leaned into the microphone and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. I knew what was coming.

"Mr. Darrel Curtis."

Cary looked at me, her eyes so potent with fear and desperation I could've bawled. I squeezed her hand before I stood up, and I could tell by her furrowed eyebrows that questions roared through her mind. I never told her I was asked by Mr. Dayton to testify. I just didn't have the heart to.

I just gave her a reassuring smile as I stood up and walked towards the stand.

I took the seat behind the small microphone, and looking just past it made me feel as if I loomed over everyone. I didn't like it. It reminded me of custody court.

"Mr. Curtis," Mr. Dayton started, "what is your association with Ms. Curtis?"

I leaned into the microphone. "Brother and legal guardian." I was told to sound confident, strong, but looking at Cary clinging to Soda as if her life depended on it made it hard to not break down into tears. I hated seeing her that way.

"What happened to your parents?" Mr. Dayton asked.

I swallowed. I hated when this topic was brought up, but forced myself to speak. "They died in a car accident, sir."

"When did this happen?" He paused. "In other words, how long have you been Ms. Curtis' legal guardian?" I struggled to find the relevance of these questions, but I trusted that Mr. Dayton knew what he was doing.

"About nine months ago, sir." I said quickly, as if forcing the words out of my mouth.

He began pacing again. He was getting serious, confident. "Tell me, Mr. Curtis, in the nine months that you've been Ms. Curtis' guardian, have you ever seen Mr. Davies abuse her in any way?"

I swallowed again, thinking for a second as I met Cary's eyes. They were nothing but teal pools of fear, her body petrified in place as she laid her head on Soda's shoulder. The sight of her made me sick. "Not directly, no."

"What do you mean?"

"I could tell something was off, but I never saw him hurt her."

"Off?" Mr. Dayton questioned.

I wanted to point at her, say 'look at her right now!', but I wouldn't do that to her. She couldn't handle it.

I remembered the many nights she would go on dates with Jonathan. I wasn't the only one who thought she was acting weird: Soda and Ponyboy would make remarks about it, too. "She would wear long sleeves in the summer, nearly every day," I scoffed, "I'd call that off." I grew angry, thinking of how scared she must've been everyday, how scared she is now.

Jonathan, less than twenty feet away from me, seemed unamused. Bored, even. Even though he wasn't looking at me, I glared at him. I so wanted him to know how little he meant to me, how much I wanted this trial to go through.

How much I wouldn't care if he was dead.

I returned my gaze to Cary. She hid, burying her face into Soda's shoulder. He glanced down at her, his brown eyes full of sadness. He looked back up at me, a sad hopefulness in his eyes, as if begging me to make this right. To make this right for her.

"Your sister was in the hospital a couple of weeks ago, is that right?" Mr. Dayton continued.

"Yessir," I answered quickly.