Kings of Linwood Academy - The Complete Box Set: A Dark High School Romance Series by Callie Rose (sight word books .TXT) 📕

“God, sweetheart.” Mom puts a hand over her chest. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did you get checked out?”

“Yep. I went to the ER, and everything’s fine.” I scoot forward on my chair, resting my elbows on the small counter that runs along the base of the window separating us. “How are you doing, Mom?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” She blinks distractedly, still staring at the bruise on my face. Then she shakes her head, seeming to clear it. “I’m sorry I was so down yesterday, Low. That’s not what you or I need right now. It’s not… going how I’d hoped it would, but we have to have faith in the system, right? I didn’t do it. So we have to trust that the truth will come out in the end.”

My heart aches as I take in her expression. After everything that’s happened, even after all the moments of fear and hopelessness, Mom still has the ability to snatch optimism out of the black sludge of life.

How the fuck could a jury ever think this woman is capable of murder?

That thought sticks in my mind, bringing back my conversation with Judge Hollowell yesterday. Should I tell her what he said? Should I follow the advice he gave?

I honestly don’t know what game he was playing. I’m guessing he let me into his house and agreed to talk to me because he wanted to try to feel out what I know, to make sure Mom’s shit-for-brains lawyer doesn’t have some amazing trump card up his sleeve.

God, I fucking wish.

But what does that mean for what Hollowell told me? If he was trying to maintain his cover as the helpful, concerned samaritan, it wouldn’t make sense for him to give me advice that was obviously bad.

I just don’t know if the advice he gave me was good. And I’m terrified that he could’ve laid some trap that I’ll fall into unwittingly if I do what he suggested.

But what he said made logical sense. My mom doesn’t look or act like a killer. She’s a gentle, sweet soul, and if Scott Parsons can’t do more to prove her innocence, he can at least highlight what a good person she is.

I scoot forward on my seat, lowering my voice a little—not that there’s anyone here to overhear besides the bored looking guard.

“Mom, I was thinking about your case. I know your public defender kinda sucks, but that just means you need to basically be your own lawyer.”

“Yeah.” Mom sighs, brushing a few flyaways out of her face. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. At least maybe I wouldn’t feel so helpless that way.”

“Tell Scott to shift the focus to your character,” I blurt before I can go around and around second guessing my choice any further. “Tell him to get people on the stand who will make you look good to the jury.”

Mom purses her lips, considering that.

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll mention that to him.” The upbeat attitude she adopted since yesterday fades a little, and she swallows. Her voice is a little shaky when she speaks. “God, I’m really fucking nervous, Low. I’ll be in front of a jury in just a few months. I can’t believe it.”

My mom doesn’t swear much. She doesn’t mind when I do, but she tends to find gentler ways to express herself. So the fact that she’s cursing now tells me exactly how scared she is.

I rest my hand against the glass that separates us, wishing I could make it vanish into thin air, reach across the space, and hug her. “I know, Mom. Me too. But it’ll be okay. Like you said, have faith, right?”

She smiles, a wan, tired stretch of her lips. “Right.”

A few months. That’s how long until my mom sits in a courtroom before a judge and jury, total strangers who will decide her fate.

But I won’t let them.

As terrified as I am of what I learned yesterday, it’s slowly been dawning on me that I’m one step closer to getting my mom out of prison.

The kings and I spent weeks searching for the man in the black mask, and now we know who it is. I don’t know how to prove that my mom didn’t kill Iris, but if I can prove someone else did, I won’t have to.

I might have a target on my back now, but so does Judge fucking Hollowell.

And I don’t care what it takes. I’ll find some way to show the world what he did.

Mom and I talk for a while longer, and she makes me promise to go back to the doctor if my bruise doesn’t show steady signs of improvement. I know seeing me hurt or sick always brings up worries about my cancer returning, as if she has some kind of caregiver PTSD—hell, she probably does—so I don’t roll my eyes at her overprotectiveness.

Tears glisten in her eyes when I stand up to leave, and I see her blinking them back as we press our palms together.

I want to tell her to be strong, to promise I’ll fix this, to reassure her that I have a plan.

But I can’t say any of that. So I tell her the only thing I can think of that matters right now.

“I love you, Mom.”

6

School starts back up on Monday, and walking through the doors of Linwood Academy feels like walking into a Twilight Zone episode. How the fuck does everybody look so normal? How are kids talking about where they went for the holiday and the expensive gifts they got from their parents as if everything is perfectly fine?

Linc and River brought my stuff over to Dax and Chase’s house, and the five of us spent most of the weekend with our heads together, trying to figure out some way to prove Judge Hollowell was Iris’s real killer.

It won’t be fucking easy.

For one thing, we have to do it without letting him get wind of the fact that we’re onto him.