There Will Be Blood (not mine)

46. Epilogue 1- A Single Rose

MADDIE POV

One Year Later

As I looked out of the small window in my room, I tried to decide what exactly I was going to do with my day. Considering that I was turning twenty today, I figured it should be something profound or exciting, but how much could you celebrate while in jail?

Well to be honest, I wasn't in jail; it was more of a daycare. I liked to call it "Martha Stewart" jail. You know, the kind of place where you're locked up but not really? It was a minimum-security facility located deep in the dark forests of southernIllinois. At least, I think I was still in Illinois. I hadn't brought myself to care in this past year. The only thing separating us from the real world was a fence. It wasn't very intimidating, either.

"You could go read," I spoke to myself, hoping that no one else was around. "No, you always read. That's all you do."

What would I have done if I weren't in jail? I'm sure Freddie would be making some awkward fatherly gesture, trying to show me that he cared and in turn, I would give him a big hug. That was the basic function of our relationship. Or maybe he would burn the eggs trying to make me my birthday breakfast. Rebecca would be planning an overzealous party that wouldn't ever come to fruition, because she'd get distracted halfway through and we'd end up having pizza, but that was okay too.

Last year, when I turned nineteen, was actually the first day of my lockup.

My trial had lasted around four months, and it was probably one of the worst experiences I had ever been through. There was so much I wanted to say but couldn't. I was put through the media circus, and no matter how much I tried to plead my innocence; there was nothing I could do. Jenks, the lawyer Jeremy gave me, was a genius. He was working his hardest, but I think there was already a preconceived notion that I was guilty. It wasn't like I was going to jail for murder; there were only small white-collar charges against me, but they still added up.

I was sentenced to spend two years in this place for illegal gambling and racketeering. I barely knew what that meant. During my trial, there were a whole lot of words thrown around that I didn't understand, and I just sat there after a while. It was painfully obvious during my arraignment that I wasn't going to get off. Robert fucking Brown was on a power trip from the time he arrested me, and I could have smacked the smirk off of his face. No one really believed that I was capable of all the crimes that I was up against, but I had a hard-ass judge who- I later found out- was trying to crack down on juvenile delinquency. Somehow he found me repulsive and decided to make me the example.

Two fucking years for gambling and racketeering. If I were older, I would have gotten more. Jenks actually had my sentence reduced, but I still had to serve my time.

I was walking a thin line during the trial, because how much could I really reveal without getting the Biebers in trouble? I should have said fuck them all and gotten myself off, but it wouldn't have worked anyway. Like I said, the judge and Brown were out for my blood. Nothing I said could change their minds, but maybe I would have felt a hell of a lot better.

According to Keegan, it was all for Justin. That's who Robert wanted, and I was the bargaining chip. They expected him to come for me and when he didn't, they were kind of at a loss of what to do. They figured they might as well prosecute me while I was available.

I was abandoned-by everyone. Literally everyone. Sure, Jeremy paid for Jenks and the whole family sat through my trial with stoic faces, but what help did that do me in here? Once Freddie heard about the shit I was in, like I suspected he would, he cursed me out over the phone, and even made a trip to Chicago to yell at me face-to-face. He tried to use his connections to get me off, but it didn't help. At least I had him there for a couple weeks.