With Love, Étienne | ✓

Chapter Thirty-Four

THE TRIAL WAS A LONG AND HARD PROCESS. 

Everyone was exhausted and I knew Louella wanted nothing more than for all of it to be over. She was twisting and turning all night, her face contorted in pain as nightmares plagued her dreams. It was a heart-breaking sight to have to see, yet as much comfort as I tried to offer her, it didn't seem to help. I wasn't sure if she was even aware of it, but she would start crying in her sleep, muffled sounds escaping her lips as she tried to be warning someone away. Touching her would only worsen things, so it was another form of torture to have to sit there and watch her in pain, but not be able to do anything to ease it. In the morning, she pretended everything was fine, and maybe she didn't remember, but every once in a while, I would catch her when her mask slipped. Her eyes dulled, her face and smile dropped and she turned into a lifeless version of herself. 

It was killing me, slowly but surely. My knees threatened to buckle and give way as we made our way to the familiar seats, settling down. A hushed buzz lit up the air around us, and I glanced around, taking in everyone's expressions. What did they think? Who did they believe? I shifted my eyes to hers, and she knew I could tell with one glance. . . It was her eyes. Despite the thick makeup, they were still red-rimmed, haunted, and sad.

The silence was what killed her in the end. It was all she knew. Keep quiet. Pretend nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong.  But now, there was a void, so black, that no light could ever penetrate it. A wound so severe, that it seemed it would never heal, no matter how much salve was poured on. Still, she was forced to act okay for the sake of others. How was it fair that she had to hide her pain, to smile, to laugh and put on a façade for the world? 

***

James crinkled his nose, scratching the back of his neck for a moment. The silence was overwhelming but he didn't move to speak right away. He cleared his throat, walking a few steps around and suddenly lifted his head, locking gazes with nearly everyone in the room. My heart was racing inside my chest at the final moments of the trial. Louella sat right next to me, on the edge of her seat, staring in front of her with wide eyes. I was surprised when her hand reached over to grab mine, and she entwined her fingers with mine, gripping on with all her might. I didn't speak, only squeezing back in support and let the warmth spread through her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time and attention throughout this trial. After hearing all of the facts, you are now faced with the decision on whether the defendant, Mister Harris was capable to sexually assaulting Miss Rey. I would like to present to you, Miss Rey. What she would like you all to believe is that she is a young, innocent girl who was betrayed by her best-friend. However, that is not the case. Where she would have you believe that Mister Harris is a monster of a person, is simply false. The fact is, Miss Rey never thought to seek help in any way -- be it professional help or even from family and friends. She says she was disturbed by him, yet continued to hang around in his presence, ever-so comfortably for the period of a year. Her actions and words simply do not align."

She sucked in a sharp breath next to me, a few curse words slipping under her breath. The words hit her like a bullet hitting its target, and she physically recoiled. Her free hand came up and gripped her neck, grasping at something she didn't seem to be aware wasn't there. Red claw marks soon donned her pale skin, and I reached over, placing a gentle hand over hers. Her teary eyes locked on mine, and I stumbled a little at the sheer emotion and pain that was evident in her stare. 

"I am here to tell you that Milo Harris is not a rapist," he announced with a loud boom, "What if Miss Rey is lying? After all, it did take her an entire year to come out with this story. In all that time, she had the means to concoct a perfect tale of what happened. But that's all that it is: a tale fabricated by a young girl who seeks pleasure in ruining the life of her former friend. You've all sat here and listened to both sides of the story, so let me ask you this: why was it that Miss Rey exhibited little to no emotion when talking about her alleged rapes that took place? If it was as traumatizing as she claimed for it to be, how could she sit there and appear calm?"

Louella's face fell. Each of his words pricked her skin, forever leaving an indent. She was listening intently, and I knew by her expression that they were tearing her apart inside. Guilt, shame and embarrassment swirled around inside. Her eyes lowered to the ground and a curtain of hair fell in front of her face, hiding her reddened cheeks. She pressed her lips together in a futile attempt to stop them from quivering, but it didn't stop tears from gathering in her eyes.

"Milo Harris did not rape Louella Rey and there is insufficient evidence to prove otherwise. This is a case with not one fact or single point of evidence that proves Mister Harris' guilt. Thus, the only conclusion is to find Mister Harris not guilty."

A quick buzz of chatter surrounded the room. A smile played on Milo's lips when I glanced over, making my stomach squirm. He sat there with confidence, suited up to perfection once more, not a single ounce of doubt visible. He rested his face on his hand and peered at me, cocking his head to one side as to say, what? He looked at us in that cold, calculating way of his. It made my teeth grind against each other, and there was nothing more I wanted to do than walk up and hit him -- make him feel the pain that she was feeling right now. How could he smile and look her in the eyes, knowing the pain he had caused? Even when her eyes were burning with rage, he didn't look away. 

My breath caught in my throat when Laura took a stand, tugging at her collar and even she appeared nervous; although she shot Louella a reassuring smile and folded her hands behind her back. Louella wiped at her eyes, then, wincing when it came back coated with black mascara. She cursed, taking the edge of her sleeve and dabbing even more, only helping to smudge it more. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small tissue, leaning over to help. She flinched a little at the intrusion, but calmed down and stood still. Our faces were mere inches away from each other's and every single freckle of hers was visible to me. Small breaths exhaled past her lips, and her throat bobbed up and down. Her brown eyes locked on mine, and she sucked in a sharp breath. I was gentle in my touch, making sure not to irritate her skin too much.

"There," I murmured, "All better."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Now, there's no question, ladies and gentlemen, later this afternoon,  that the rafters and the lights will shake with regard to how horrible everything that happened was," she began, gathering everyone's attention, "I want to say again as I've said before, I don't dispute that what happened out there was criminal, that it was wrong and that it violated our law. There's no question about that. The terrible job that all of us have in this case is to sort through this tragedy and decide whether the crime of rape has been established as the Judge will define it to you. It's a terrible job for everybody here, for you, to listen to this tragic evidence, to review these horrific things that happened. And I want to tell you, it's as hard for me as it is for you. It's as hard for me to look through this evidence that came in and to look at what happened out there as it is for you. I'm not trying to minimize or explain away anything that happened. There is no way to do that. Our job is to sit down and there are definitions of these crimes like rape and we have to go through the evidence and we have to hear the Judge's instruction and we have to see whether or not it adds up to the definition. And that's the solemn duty that all of us took on; I, as an officer of the Court; the Judge as the Judge; the prosecutor, and that you took on as the jury. But so much of the evidence that you heard this week went to who did it, not what was done."

"Someone who cannot take full accountability for his actions does not deserve a mitigating sentence. It is deeply offensive that he would try and dilute rape with a suggestion of consent was provided, by victim-blaming and that she 'wanted it.' By definition rape is the absence of promiscuity; rape is the absence of consent, and it perturbs me deeply that he can't even see that distinction. And on behalf of Miss Louella Rey, as her lawyer, and based on this evidence that you've heard, and based on the instructions the Judge is going to give you, I ask you, as difficult and as hard and as troublesome as that is on these things, to apply our law to these facts and to find this young man guilty on the count of countless rapes and harassment."

****