I had been stuck in a courtroom for days, staring at his smirking face; watching him smile and charm. Everyone seemed to have fallen for his act. He was on trial and it didn't matter.

With every day that I was trapped in the courtroom, I sunk deeper. I couldn't sleep, couldn't be alone. I couldn't be in the dark. I flinched when my own father touched me. My life was ruined and all the jury could do was smile at him and frown at me.

"Whore! You're such a stupid slut!" Mrs. Thorne yelled at me. She shoved me up against the wall. "What is it that you want, you stupid bitch? Money? Attention?"

Her fingers dug into my cheeks, squeezing my jaw painfully. I looked and the security guard meet my eyes and looked away.

"What, whore? What is it that you want?" Her grip tightened. "My husband is on trial because of your little stunt!"

"He raped me," I said quietly. Her palm smacked me.

"You wanted it! You liked it that way! You begged him, you fucking cunt." Her eyes were ice cold, no trace of emotion. "No jury will ever believe you. Braxton will walk free."

Her hands released me and she walked away. A tear slipped down my cheek and I straightened my skirt. I walked into the courtroom

"The people call Adelaide Marks to the stand," the prosecutor said. I placed my hand on the bible

"Adelaide Marks, do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"The people versus Camille Kincaid: one count of murder in the first degree and one count of rape in the first degree."

"How does the defendant plead?" the Judge asks. He looks like he's in his early fifties. It's all too familiar.

"Not guilty, your honor," Dimitri says. He looks at me.

"And bail?" the Judge asks.

"Your honor, the defendant is a flight risk. She has no ties to the community, not to mention how highly sensitive this case is," the Prosecutor says. "People recommend remand without bail."

"Miss Kincaid has no means to flee. She does not present as a flight risk. She even cooperated with police forces. Miss Kincaid is not a threat," Dimitri says. The Prosecutor rolls his eyes.

"Oh, really? Not a threat? Have you seen the case, Dimitri?" he says.

"Enough! Save it for trial, Mr. Wethers," the Judge says. "Bail is set at twenty-five thousand dollars. The defendant will surrender her passport and is confined to city lines."

I look at Dimitri. "I don't have any money, I mean, I just got-"

"Relax, Kincaid," Dimitri murmurs quietly to me. "Thank you, your honor."

Everything's blurred as they place an ankle monitor around my ankle.

"...You are not allowed to drink or do drugs. If you go outside of the city lines of New York City, there will be consequences. We'll be tracking your every movement. Failure to comply with these rules will lead to remand," the woman says. She stands up. "Any questions?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Then we'll be seeing you soon, Miss Kincaid," she says as Dimitri walks back.

"Did you pay for my bail?" I ask as we're walking away.

"Does it matter?" he asks, looking at me.

"Did you pay twenty-five thousand dollars?" I ask. He shrugs. "I can't pay you back, I don't have any money-"

"Kincaid, don't worry about it," he says as we get into the car.

"Why are you helping me?" I look at him and he sighs. "You're my lawyer, and I never asked for one. You just paid for my bail and none of it makes sense."

"Why are you so reluctant to accept my help?" Dimitri asks.

"Nothing comes free. You obviously have some motivation behind helping me," I say. He frowns.

"What kind of a man do you think I am?" I shrug and he sighs again. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. But there's something different about you."

"For all you know, I could be a killer." His eyes meet mine and he's looking at me like he's trying to figure something out.

"It's like everyone has given up on you and you've given up on yourself."

I look away from him and out the window.

"We'll be going back to my office," he says after a few minutes. "You can get something to eat and I'll ask you some questions, if that's okay with you, Miss Kincaid."

"That's fine." I shut my eyes. Fuck, I haven't slept in two days. I just want to go back to my apartment. "Oh, shit."

Dimitri frowns and looks at me. "What?"

"Nothing." I got kicked out of my apartment and I have nowhere to go.

"Are you sure?" Dimitri asks.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I say. We pull up in front of a tall, elegant building. I'm guessing it's his office. We get out of the car. The ankle monitor isn't super bulky, but it's still slightly uncomfortable.

Dimitri leads me through the lobby and into the elevator. I sigh and lean against the wall. We're the only people on the elevator. The elevator stops and the scent of strong cologne hits me. My eyes fly open.

I was standing in my office, moving some papers around. My office was a mess: papers were everywhere. I had my earbuds in, listening to music and thinking about my story. I was some version of happy.

And then his scent hit me and he was behind me, his erection brushing my leg. I tried to move away from him, but his hands wrapped around my waist.

"Where would you be going?" Braxton asked. He always smelled of strong cologne and whiskey.

"Braxton," was all I could say. I'd told him to stop, but he never listened. It only seemed to encourage him.

"I know you've missed me." He had been away on some business. He was only gone for three days, but I could finally breathe. I'd even met a man at a bar. We were going out for drinks after work.

Braxton's hands moved to my thighs. I pressed my eyes shut and tried to imagine I was somewhere else. His fingers brushed the line of my panties.

"Please stop," I said. "Your wife is in town and-"

"Shut up, bitch."

"Braxton stop," I said.

"What the fuck is going on?" Nathan asked. He was the man I had met. "Adelaide? Are you okay?"

"Get the fuck out of here," Braxton said. He released my thighs but kept an iron grip on my wrist.

"Fuck off, man," Nathan said. Braxton's eyes flared and his grip tightened. "Let go of Adelaide."

"Who the fuck are you?" Braxton asked. Nathan looked at me.

"He's my boyfriend," I said. Nathan nodded and walked closer to Braxton, whose grip tightened on my wrist. And then he released me.

"I'll be waiting, Adelaide," Braxton said.

"Kincaid?" Dimitri asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. His eyes search mine with concern.

"I'm fine." I just want to get out of the elevator and away from the man that smells like Braxton did.

"Damn, Dimitri," the man says. He's looking at me. He looks like he's close to forty: thinning hair, protruding stomach. He looks like he might have been moderately attractive years ago.

"Fuck off, Carter," Dimitri says. The man takes a step closer to me.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asks. Dimitri rolls his eyes.

"Kincaid, this is Paul Carter. He's a defense attorney." Dimitri looks at me. "Carter, meet my new client."

"What is she on trial for? Prostitution?" I look at Dimitri and his eyes darken, but he hides anything else.

"The Thorne case," Dimitri says. Thankfully the elevator stops before the man can say anything else. "I'm sorry about Carter."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault." I look at the ground. "He's far from the worst."

Dimitri frowns. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," I say. We walk into an office. It's big, there's an oak desk on one side and a couch on the other. Papers are neatly kept on the desk. Nothing seems to be out of place.

Dimitri gestures for me to sit down. "Is it okay if I ask you some questions? I'll have my assistant run out and grab you something to eat," he says.

"I guess," I say.

"Noah!" Dimitri says. A guy comes running in. He looks like he's my age. His hair is disheveled, his dress shirt slightly rumpled. He has hair dark hair and freckles.

"Oh, Jesus," the guy, Noah, says. "What is it now?"

Dimitri grins.

"Aren't you happy to see me? Anyways, Kincaid, this is Noah," he says. "Kincaid is my new client."

Noah walks over and holds out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Kincaid," he says. I shake his hand.

"You too," I say. He's cute in a boyish way. Dimitri coughs.

"Get me two cheeseburgers with fries and chocolate shakes." Noah frowns.

"You do realize that I went to law school, right? I passed the bar. I'm a lawyer, not your assistant," Noah says.

"That's a nice speech, but you're my bitch and we both know it." Dimitri's grinning and Noah's frowning.

"Whatever. Is there anything else you want?" Noah asks. Dimitri shakes his head and walks away.

"It's okay if I ask you questions?" Dimitri asks. I nod. "I guess we should start with the obvious: did you know Braxton Thorne?"

I press my eyes shut. "No."

"Did you kill Braxton Thorne?" he asks.

"Does it matter?" I open my eyes and Dimitri almost laughs.

"You're on trial for his murder, Miss Kincaid. I'd say that it does matter," Dimitri tells me. "I'll ask you again: did you kill Braxton Thorne?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Fine." It seems like he's almost irritated. "How old are you, Miss Kincaid?"

"Twenty-six," I say. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-one," he says. "Where do you work?"

"A diner."

"Do you do anything else regularly?" Dimitri asks.

"I teach a creative writing class at Jefferson high," I say.

"Walk me through your daily routine," he says.

"I take a bus or walk to work," I say.

"Do you always use the same route?" He asks. I shake my head. "Go on."

"My shift for work varies, but after I go to Jefferson. After I'm done there I either go home or back to the diner to work," I tell him.

"Why is that you take different routes?"

"I don't know." But really it's because old habits die hard.

"Do you live with anyone?" He's taking notes in a legal pad.

"No," I say.

"Do you have any family?"

"No. It's just me."

He sighs. "I'm guessing there was no one to account for you on the night of September nineteenth?"

"No," I say.

"So, where were you that night, Miss Kincaid? The night Braxton Thorne was murdered?" Dimitri asks.

"It doesn't matter," I say. Dimitri sighs and shoves the legal pad forward. He runs his hands through his hair.

"I can't help you, Miss Kincaid, if you won't let me." He looks at me. "It's my job as your lawyer to make sure that you don't go to jail, or get a fair trial at the very least. But if you're insistent on shutting down whenever I mention Braxton Thorne, I'm sorry, Miss Kincaid. I truly am, but there's nothing I can do you."

"I knew Braxton." I feel like I owe Dimitri something. He's done all of these things that I never asked him.

"How did you know him?" His eyes bore into mine. I release a breath and run my hands over my face.

"I knew Braxton..." I start, trying to find something suiting. "I knew him in a way that no one should have."

"What does that mean?" Dimitri asks.

"You don't want to know."

He looks like he's going to say something, but Noah walks in. Noah drops a big bag of food and then walks out.

"I guess we should eat," Dimitri says. "You mind if we sit on the couch? I don't want to get food all over my desk."

"It's fine." I stand up and straighten out my skirt. Dimitri and I sit down. He grins and hands me a box.

"Damn, I love these things," he says as he takes a bite of the burger. I smile and bite in.

"Yeah, these are pretty good," I say. Dimitri frowns at me.

"Only pretty good?" he asks. I shrug.

We don't talk much as we eat. I yawn after I'm done. Dimitri grabs what little remains of the food and walks out of his office. I yawn again and I feel how tired I am.

My eyelids are so heavy that they fall shut.