Blacken by Alandra Rankin (i love reading books txt) 📕

compelling the other’s life. She was absolutely sure he would bring up Rhulle, or the strange circumstances with her blood or others who perished in the unfortunate circumstances.

Could she protect the location and identity of her love in the court of law? Moreover, how would everyone take to what could be outlandish stories wove by a man driven mad by a conspiracy?

He was escorted to the defence table at the head of the room, sitting heavily beside his lawyer dressed in a fancy cranberry suit.

“All rise for Honourable Judge Neish,” the court clerk’s voice bellowed, catching Avie’s attention from Owen in front of her, rising as the room did while the judge entered in black robes.

The material swished as he stepped behind the bench, sitting while inspecting the papers resting there. Judge Neish must have been in his seventies if she had to guess, wispy white hair combed over to one side with half-moon glasses perched precariously over the edge of his wide nose.

“The court recognizes the case of R v. Owen Zagorski. The public may be seated.”

To her surprise, he spoke with strength, a smooth and confident voice that came only with decades of experience flowed from him as he spoke to the room. He commanded the authority with no questions asked.

“Court is now in session; Crown counsel please proceed with the prosecution.”

Graceful in her movements, the Crown counsel rose and paced at the front of the room, long robes giving the appearance of gliding over the floor instead. “At this time, I will direct the witnesses to their allocated rooms before the trial is to begin.”

Avie did just so, Todd leading beside her as they were escorted with a few other familiar faces. In a small side room close by, they filed in, taking seats in awkward chairs. She caught a glimpse of Owen sneaking a look at her as she left.

She had no idea what he was thinking, but she knew it was full of spite. After all, she survived his murder attempt and was about to testify against him, maybe he felt like she owed him not to—as if he didn’t act out the most heinous crime towards her.

Inside of the room, they were instructed to wait until they were called, and to not discuss amongst each other details of their accounts or the case. The bailiff stood powerful at the door to watch over them, giving them freedom to watch television so long as it was not news or information stations. Avie made eye contact with a few of the other witnesses, recognizing her neighbour, her operating surgeon and even the detective that she had dealt with a few times in the case. There were also a few faces she did not recognize, more than likely there to go over evidence and testify on Owen’s behalf.

Time crawled by as they all discussed pleasantries, deciding to put on a movie after seeing what was available on various programs. It was mostly background noise as all simply sat in anticipation for their own turn. It was even worse than being alone, to have people here and not discuss what they were all here to do.

She fidgeted, watching a scene take place that had something to do with Christmas, her leg bouncing. Det. Arcand left for his testimony, it felt like hours had gone by in his absence. Her chin jutted into her hand as she leaned over the dark table, she wanted to get this all over with, yet this could be how she spent her time for who knew how long?

He returned eventually only to have her neighbour leave shortly after for his turn. One by one they were going up, seemingly leaving herself for last. It was an agonizingly slow process, made worse by the fact that she couldn’t even know what was going on. She wished it was possible for her to sit in front of the bar and watch the trial go down, it would be leagues better than sitting here in morbid curiosity.

The woman pondered about what Owen would say, how he could spin the situation into his favor. If she was him, she would try to make it seem like self defence, probably his only bet. Although it didn’t translate well in her imagination, he was something the lines of six feet tall, she could hardly stand toe to toe with him.

And what of Rhulle?

Would Owen bring him up at all? Was that ill advised by his defence lawyer, or would it again be warped into having to do with herself instead? How would the mystery they worked on be discussed as it laced intricately with Rhulle?

She felt sick with boredom, conjuring up a hyperactive mind.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to open with a thank you for attending today. This has been quite a movement in Blacken’s small community; the first of its kind in generations. A person had attempted to kill, to take the life of another, for an unknown reason. I would like to outline the defendant, the only suspect in this case, as that very perpetrator. Owen Zagorski is a man who was found fleeing the scene, his name is registered on the attempted murder weapon, and attached very closely to the victim. I implore you to carefully consider all evidence in your judgement.”

The dark haired woman smiled, flipping her loose curl strands in an almost exaggerated manner. It annoyed Owen, finding that she kept repeating the action even in early trial. It was distracting for him to watch; she should have just worn it back…

“My first witness I’d like to call can help us put some pieces together with what happened. I’m calling Santi Arcand to the stand.”

In a matter of moments, the man who had toyed with Owen in his interrogation waddled in, the blond side-scowled, readjusting in his seat.

The short man was sworn in, settling down into the bench.

Crown counsel started up again, “Mr. Arcand, can you state your occupation for the