The End of Innocence

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

November 3rd, 2017

Attorney. Prosecutor. Jury. Witness. Stand. That's all Emerson can remember from back when she used to watch Law and Order.

Emerson knows that today is just the hearing, of course. It's just to decide what's going to happen to her between now and the trial. But it still scares her to think that she only know five words to describe what's about to happen to her.

"Emerson," her lawyer, Mr. Heran says. They're waiting to go in, and she's shaking all through her body. "I'm going to do everything I can do get the best for you," he says. "The best thing you can do right now is just stay calm.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Emerson whimpers, her hands beginning to shake harder. They're vibrating so quickly that people around them are staring.

Heran sighs. "Emerson, please calm yourself down," he says. It makes her feel as if she's a young child, having a tantrum over not getting extra dessert. Doesn't he understand that this is her life in question here?

She wants to burrow her head in her hands and stay there. She'll just sit, curled up in a ball, while these people go about their crazy court case. She doesn't want anything to do with it.

But instead, she has to make eye contact with that judge. She has to act like she's not afraid to step inside that room. She has to seem like she doesn't see the sad look in her lawyer's eyes, the look that says even he believes she is a killer.

How could she be a killer? She's fourteen years old, for goodness sakes. Since when do fourteen-year-olds go around murdering people?

However, the real pit in her stomach comes from the fact that they have good evidence. They have a video of a figure, a figure who is tall and lean like her, being called by her name. When Emerson pictures it, she has this awful feeling that maybe it really was her, pushing Serena to her death.

But then, if she did do it, what happened to the body?

One night back in seventh grade, Emerson went to a movie night at Tanner's where they watched a horror movie about a boy whose friends and family were slowly being killed off. No one could figure out who was responsible, and he was terrified for his life. One day he woke up in the police station, being told he had just been caught attempting to murder his older sister. Emerson and her friends hugged each other tight as the boy learned he had killed his loved ones, without even knowing.

Could this be what's happening to her?

Could she have killed her best friend?

No. No, that's ridiculous. Of course she didn't.

Heran squeezes her hand. "You're a good kid, Emerson. Don't stress out. I'll get you out on bail. Don't you worry."

"Thanks," she says softly, taking a deep breath. It's going to be okay.

Heran smiles tightly, but she doesn't return the expression. Instead, she looks at Heran, at the twinkle in his milky blue eyes. "Emerson," he says, "I am so sorry you have gotten into this. I will do everything in my power to get you out."

———

Layla and Clare sit at Clare's kitchen table, both dressed in casual outfits people normally wear on days when they don't plan on making it out of bed. And it fits—Clare barely managed to get up this morning. She only forced herself downstairs when Layla called, begging to come over.

"My parents won't even notice I'm gone," Layla told her over the phone. "They haven't even asked how I am."

It hurt to hear this. Even her dad, who generally comes home only for a wordless dinner before retreating his office, has told her that she can talk to him about anything she wants to. Even he understands how hard these past days have been.