Beneath the Surface

Chapter 47: The Long Road to Justice

Chapter 47 - The Long Road to Justice

Valerie's Point of View

The courtroom feels suffocating, as if the very walls are inching closer with every passing moment. My chest tightens, and I can almost feel the air thinning, like I'm struggling to breathe in a room that's slowly being sealed shut. My mind fights to stay focused, but it's overwhelmed by a constant buzz—voices overlapping, memories flashing in and out like fleeting shadows. It's all too much, a storm of sounds and faces swirling around me, and I'm drowning in it. Every word that's spoken, each glance exchanged across the room, stretches time unbearably thin, as if the seconds are drawn out like elastic, waiting to snap.

My body feels heavy, each muscle aching, as though I've been holding my breath for hours. The tension is coiled tight in my shoulders and neck, a pressure that threatens to break free at any moment. I want to move, to shift and stretch, to do anything that will release the crushing weight of the trial that's bearing down on me. But I can't. I feel trapped. The witnesses' voices float in and out of my consciousness, but it's Aaron's lawyer who haunts my every thought. I can already sense how he'll attack, how he'll twist my words, manipulate the truth until I'm unsure of what's real anymore. It's coming—this battle, this storm I can feel gathering on the horizon.

I fight to hold onto my resolve, knowing I can't back down now. Not when we're so close to the end. Not when the entire weight of this ordeal is pressing down on me, suffocating me from all sides. It feels like the air is growing thicker, and every fiber of my being is screaming for rest. But I can't afford to rest. Not now. Giving up isn't an option. There's too much at stake, and I won't let this break me.

I turn my head toward Viktoria and Mason, both of them hovering at my side, their faces etched with concern. The worry in their eyes is palpable, but it only adds to the pressure inside my chest. Mason is the first to speak, his voice low and steady, but there's an edge to it—he's trying to break through the fog that's clouding my thoughts. "Valerie, you're doing great," he says, his words wrapped in a kindness that's meant to comfort but feels distant, like a far-off echo. "Don't let this get to you. Just one step at a time, okay?" His voice is soothing, but it's too soft, too far away to anchor me. His words float past me, like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.

Viktoria's touch on my arm is light, but there's strength in it, a grounding force that I've come to rely on. "We're right here," she says, her voice calm but firm, like the steady beat of a drum in the midst of chaos. "You're not alone in this."

Their concern is genuine, but right now, it feels like too much. It presses in on me, adding weight to the already unbearable burden I'm carrying. It's as though the walls are closing in from all sides, and I can't breathe beneath the pressure. I shake my head, a faint whisper escaping my lips, barely audible over the noise in my head. "I... I need some air," I manage, my voice cracking as I cut them off gently. It's not that I don't appreciate them, but in this moment, their worry feels like it's smothering me. I just need a moment to breathe.

Mason's eyes flick to Viktoria, his brow furrowing in concern, but neither of them argues. There's a quiet understanding between them, as if they can sense the storm brewing within me. Viktoria opens her mouth, probably to try to convince me to stay, but I lift a hand—just a small gesture, asking for a moment of peace, a moment to gather myself. My eyes meet hers, and there's a silent plea in them, a plea I don't have the words to express. I just need to be alone, if only for a minute.

Mason hesitates, his expression reluctant, but then he nods, his voice quiet, as if reluctant to disturb the fragile balance we've reached. "Okay," he says, his voice soft with worry. "We'll be right here when you're ready."

Viktoria opens her mouth, probably to argue or suggest that I stay, but I shake my head. I can't explain it—not now, not when my mind is scattered and my chest is tight. I just need a moment to myself, to breathe and clear my head, even if it's just for a few seconds. It's not that I don't appreciate them. It's just that right now, I feel like I'm drowning in their concern, and I need to find my own footing again.