I love making plans.

Always have. Ever since I was a little kid. I would make plans on how Jeremy and I could sneak the most snacks up to our rooms in the least number of trips. Without our parents noticing a thing.

'Plans.' Sounds like I'm talking about going out with friends. But that wasn't usually at the forefront of my mind.

When I came up with my initial plan to scare Hank Wilcox into leaving me alone—RIP to that plan—it had reignited the spark that plotting and scheming lit inside of me. I wasn't bored anymore. My mind was never devoid of a challenge. Even when I was all alone, with only my thoughts, every ounce of my energy was put into perfecting the plan, thinking everything through for the forty-seventh time, and eliminating different ways it could go awry.

That plan had failed in an almost-epic way. It would have been much better if I hadn't been caught.

Same goes for my next plan. My plan to get Rebecca, Lydia, and myself removed from any suspicions regarding Jaxson Karl's death, my plan of cleaning up the mess my stepmother had made for herself, my plan of ensuring no one would ever be the wiser to what she had done.

If we're speaking strictly in terms of succeeding in that last point, my plan worked. But if we're speaking in broad terms, of having all three of us get away without a scratch, then that plan had failed as well.

But what's that saying?

Third time's the charm?

><><><

"They let you in alone?"

Kennedy didn't think it was regular prison guard etiquette to allow a co-defendant to visit a prisoner by themselves, but she could be wrong. She had been wrong before. Or perhaps the guards didn't really care. It was Christmas, after all.

Rebecca shook her head, her eyes flickering down to Kennedy's cuffed wrists. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen them before.

"Brianne's just talking to one of the custodians. I think they know each other from law school or something. They were really friendly."

"That was my wife, actually." Brianne sat down next to Rebecca, "She just started volunteering here." She turned to face Kennedy, "Do not speak to her unless you don't want me as a lawyer anymore."

Kennedy nodded, keeping her mouth shut.

"She's pretty." Rebecca offered a weak response to fill the tension in the air.

"I know." Brianne replied. She put both elbows on the table and leaned in closer to Kennedy, "Are you ready to talk logistics?"

Kennedy nodded again. She remained silent.

"I'm doing my best to get the trial date moved up, but this isn't going to be like the first time around. You had the quickest turnaround between being arrested and the trial starting that I think I've ever seen, but after everything that happened with ADA Karl's conflict of interest and the other issues that cropped up, the state is going to take their time. They're not in a rush."

"What does 'not in a rush' mean, exactly?" Kennedy asked, "Are we looking at a few weeks? A month? Two months?"

"Six at the least." Brianne stated matter-of-factly, as if the less emotion she showed in her tone, the less angry Kennedy would be with her answer.

Six at the least.

Kennedy let the four words echo through her skull. They bounced around and she stared at her lawyer with very dark, very blank eyes.

"Six at the least." Kennedy repeated aloud.

The three women sat very still and very quiet, no one willing to break the silence. Rebecca and Brianne didn't want to upset her, Kennedy knew that; she didn't even know what she would want them to say if they did say anything. She didn't want comfort or empty words of encouragement. But she also didn't think she was strong enough to hear anymore hard truths for a few more days at the least.

And then, as if a lightbulb had gone off in the grimy grey ceiling of the prison, Kennedy remembered the night before. She remembered her decision.

She needed to speak with Rebecca. Alone.

Brianne couldn't know a single thing. One of two things would happen: she would shut it down and tell the guards to keep a closer eye on Kennedy, or she would do nothing and most definitely get disbarred.

And they didn't have much time. New Year's Eve was in less than a week, and there wouldn't be another holiday for another two or three weeks. She couldn't wait that long.

"Do I need an escort to use the restroom?" Kennedy asked Brianne. The first thing she had said since the 'six at the least' had sunk in.

Brianne sighed.

"Probably. I'll go ask."

She stood to ask a guard and walked over towards where Kennedy could see her wife standing, talking to the only guard in their general vicinity.

"Bill! This is my wife, Brianne. Have you two met?"

Kennedy grinned. It would take at least two minutes for Brianne to extract herself from introductions and niceties. Kennedy only needed ninety seconds.

Once Brianne's back was completely turned, Kennedy leaned in towards Rebecca, attempting and failing to look as inconspicuous as possible.

"Here's what I'm thinking."

><><><

Two minutes and seventeen seconds later, Brianne returned to the table. Kennedy was sitting up straight with no emotion showing on her face, and Rebecca looked to be trying her best to match that. She was closer to looking like she was about to vomit.

"Sorry about the delay," Brianne sat next to Rebecca, "you do need an escort to the bathroom, Kennedy."

"Actually, I don't think I have to go anymore." Kennedy said.

Brianne raised one eyebrow.

"I had to endure small talk with Bill for nothing?"

"Apologies," Kennedy said, "I didn't mean for you to get stuck in small talk."

The lawyer gave a small sigh, shaking her head.

"Alright. Anyway, we need to discuss our starting strategy for both of your defenses, and I'll have one of the paralegals at the office try and get your trial date moved up. There isn't much else I can do besides that."

"You could find my stepmother." Kennedy muttered.

"Lydia?" Brianne shook her head, "As far as the world is concerned, she isn't on that footage, so it doesn't matter where she is now. What matters is finding tangible evidence that she was at that hotel on that night, and I already have someone looking into it."

"Okay." Kennedy nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm good at my job, Kennedy." Brianne said, "I promise I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of this mess. You have to trust me."

Kennedy swallowed down the guilt that cropped up at her lawyer's sincerity. This was not the time to develop a conscience.

"I do."

Brianne smiled and stood up.

"Rebecca and I will discuss strategies and come visit you soon."

Kennedy nodded.

"Thanks."

Rebecca stood to follow Brianne out of the room but glanced over at Kennedy before she left. Her head tipped ever so slightly down, then up, then down again.

She agreed with the plan.

Rebecca was going to commit her first actual crime six days from then.

And like in her close calls to breaking the law, she was going to do so at Kennedy's behest.