The Planetarium

INTERLUDE II

"Orpheus Isuel Athans..."

I solemnly affirm that the evidence to be given by me shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Even Dr. Sherazi couldn't save me from cross-examination. They lawyers look smug and important, their booming voices rebounding off the courtroom walls from every one to hear. I feel mousey standing in front of my audience.

My therapist told me not to look at my friends. Or even the accused. I couldn't help sneaking glimpses at the man. The fool had no clue I had planted that blood evidence at his hotel. But only now and again did I stare. I've always kept my impulses unchecked.

Suppose that's what got me here in the first place.

"You were one of the last people to see Juliet Emmerson alive," the defense attorney says, looking at the jury.

She asks when and where it was, so I am forced to repeat the information in the police report. Sweat is trickling down my back. It's been months and months since that awful day in the woods. If I can live through that, I can survive this.

"And what was she doing over at your apartment?"

She came to return my camera.

"What use did Juliet Emmerson have with your camera? It seems a strange hour to return it to you."

I suppose.

"Where were your roommates?"

The prosecutor jumped in at this point, telling the judge that this interrogation wasn't heading anywhere important. Well, maybe she used a few harsher words than those. My brain felt fuzzy, far away, like nothing was real.

Ezra Blume and Arthur Cheng went to get some takeaway food. Hannah Blake was out with her friend.

Why did he look so triumphant? They couldn't catch me out. They had no proof. If they did, I'd be thrown to the inmates at men's prison by now.

"What was the nature of your relationship with Juliet Emmerson?"

She was my friend?

It sounded more like a question than a statement. Against Dr. Sherazi's advice, I stared around at the crowd gathered in the seats. People I knew, people I didn't know - Juliet's mother's face blotchy with tears with her son fidgeting beside her. Phil, his hulking body hunched so small.

"What were you doing at the hotel Red's on the thirteenth of April?"

I went to dinner for my friend's birthday.

"And booked a hotel room?"

I have a brain tumor. My symptoms were kicking in and I wasn't confident to make it home by myself. So I booked the room upstairs.

"Was the nature of relationship with Juliet Emmerson sexual?"

My eyes flitted to Hannah. Her dark eyes were boring into mine. Art was clutching her hand in support, also goggling. If he was a real mate, he'd rip out her hearing aids right now!

Yes.

The defense attorney smirked at his consultant, informing the court that would be all. I saw his gaze travel over to Phil, who now resembled a zombie. I had just given him the best news to motivate somebody other than his client. 

This wasn't suppose to happen. I wasn't meant to happen this way.

The prosecutor sent me a filthy look when I took my place. How could I telepathically communicate that it wasn't my first thought to tell the police officers we had been banging? Right in front of my girlfriend?

Hot tears of shame dripped into my lap.

I couldn't look at Hannah.