When Lisa returned to the nearly empty courtroom, she was on wobbly legs. It reminded her of the single time she'd tried surfing while on vacation with her parents in Daytona. She'd felt like a newborn giraffe then and she was just as unsteady now.
Slipping into the chair next to Roseanne, Lisa tried and failed not to look at her. Part of her wanted to drop the front and bare her soul to ask if she was still feeling something between them, but fear and doubt kept her lips glued together. What would Roseanne think if she asked what the preceding moment in the office meant?
Lisa's memories shot back to the eighth grade. After months of inner turmoil and self-doubt, she'd come out to her best friend. Immediately she'd wondered if Lisa had a crush on her. If she'd ever looked at her when they changed together or shared a bed during a sleep over.
Her stomach churned. Is she going to think she can't engage in normal human contact without me swooning all over her? As they waited, Lisa's mind reeled, dissecting every second of the last few hours. But it wasn't normal, was it?
The tell-tale buzz that alerted the court that the judge was about to enter derailed Lisa's wildly spinning thoughts.
"All rise," the exhausted looking court officer said as the judge entered.
With her knees physically banging together, Lisa stood. Thoughts of Roseanne were immediately replaced with worries that they hadn't done enough to prove their case. Juries were so unpredictable. It wasn't impossible for them to believe his defense if they really wanted to acquit.
Even when juries thought people were guilty, they still issued their own kinds of pardons if they found the defendant sympathetic enough. Lisa's eyes darted to the side, catching a glimpse of Mr. Lee through her peripheral vision. His expression was as smug as it had been throughout trial. He either wasn't worried or was desperately trying to hide his fear.
She had no doubt in her mind that he was guilty but was better than most at covering his tracks. If he was allowed to continue to torment his ex-wife — Lisa stopped the thought midstream. She wouldn't let herself think of that unless she had to. Panicking wasn't going to help anyone. Least of all, Ms. Lee, who looked like she hadn't slept in days. The jury had to see that, right? Her testimony had been strong and her fear of him palpable.
One by one, the jurors entered the courtroom and sat down. Lisa watched each one of them. Studied their faces. Desperate for any hint of how they might have voted. They gave nothing away, or if they did, she was too overwhelmed to read it.
Lisa had to stop herself from reaching over and clutching Roseanne's hand. The anticipation was too much to handle. If she could, she'd hit fast forward or close her eyes until the judge read the verdict. None of those were options, so she held her breath and waited while the judge accepted the folded piece of paper, checking the verdict before handing it back to the bailiff.
The time it took the verdict to travel back to the jury's foreperson was interminable. Lisa's mouth went dry, and her pulse jumped so wildly in her neck, she was sure something was going to come apart in her body.
As the foreperson stood, Lisa stopped breathing. For a moment, instead of talking all she could hear was a painful ringing in her ears. She glanced at Roseanne. Cool and stoic as ever, but she was too on edge to feel envious. Her senses were full with more important things.
"As to the sole count of stalking, how do you find?" the judge asked.
"We find the defendant," the foreperson cleared her throat before locking eyes with the defendant and sending Lisa's blood pressure through the roof, "guilty."
Behind Lisa was the loud sound of a body dropping into an empty wooden bench. She turned toward it to see Ms. Lee, her body trembling as she cried in the victim services agent's arms.
