Sophia sat in her chair, the smooth wooden table providing a surface for her to tap her fingers nervously. The judge looked at her and squinted his eyes as if trying to see her more clearly. Or maybe he just didn’t recognize her, as she no longer resembled the waif that she was in her past. Her thoughts were interrupted when the Prosecuting attorney spoke.

“The prosecution calls Matthew Ballen to the stand.”

Sophia cringed. She hated his name, she hated him. She heard his footsteps moving up the center aisle from the back of the courtroom and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. When he moved next to the table, she was thankful the public defender was between them. She felt his hatred for her as if fire was shooting from his mouth and singeing her skin. He pushed through the gate and strolled to the stand with such arrogance that she wanted to punch him right there in the courtroom. The bailiff came over to him, holding the code of the pack in his hand.

“Place your right hand on the code.”

Matthew placed his hand on it, then looked at Sophia with a nasty gleam in his eyes.

“Do you swear that the testimony you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

“I do,” Matthew said.

“Would you state your name?”

“Matthew Ballen.”

“You may be seated.”

Matthew stepped into the box and took his seat on the witness stand. The entire time, Sophia felt sick. Matthew didn’t know the meaning of the word truth. How can her life be depending on anything that comes out of his mouth? How?

The prosecuting attorney rose from his seat and moved in front of Matthew to look at him, then he paced back and forth in front of the witness stand and the judge. He was swallowing so rapidly that his Adam’s apple bobbed and with his hands linked behind his back, and his absurd strut, he looked like a rooster. After two passes, that Sophia thought could only have been to build tension in the courtroom, he stopped in front of Matthew.

“Thank you, Matthew, for being here today. I am sure that it is very difficult for you to reveal the truth about the defendant.”

“Objection, relevancy.” Defense council jumped from his seat and yelled his objection.

“Sustained.” The judge ordered.

The prosecuting attorney waved his arm as if to dismiss it all.

“Matthew, you’ve known Sophia Tibald for a very long time. Can you share with the court how long that’s been.“?

“Since we were toddlers, sir.”

“It is our understanding that Sophia Tibald is your mate, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Matthew confirmed.

“As such, your testimony is very important to us. We will need you to be as concise as possible.”

“Objection!” Defense council was starting to turn red.

“Statement withdrawn.”

It didn’t matter that he withdrew the statement from the record. He had made the mate connection for the judge to hear, and that couldn’t be unheard, whether it was in the transcripts or not. Sophia closed her eyes and tried to breathe. She knew that Matthew being her mate would put a lot of credence in what he had to say. Neil was right, Scott should have let him kill him that day in the locker room.

“During the time that you have known the defendant, have you ever seen her display a temper, or rage.”

“I have. Many times, sir.”

“Can you share some of them with us, particularly any that involve a knife.”

“Objection, leading the witness.” Sophia’s council jumped up again. Little beads of sweat formed at his temples, and Sophia wondered if he was going to have a stroke.

“I’ll rephrase your honor.”

The judge nodded.

“Please tell us of specific occurrences that you recall clearly.”

Matthew told tale after tale, lie after lie. Stories of events that never occurred. He told stories with such detail that Sophia was sickened. Surely he was telling of his own actions, just changing it to her, she thought. He’s the only one besides her father that could be that sick, that vile.

Her attorney leaned close to her and cupped his hand on the side of his mouth.

“Is any of this true?” he asked.

Sophia merely shook her head no. Her eyes were wide, and her face had taken a sickly green pallor. Matthew told the court that Sophia had gutted a rabbit when they were little with a stick she had sharpened to a deadly point. That never happened.

Matthew told the court that in the year of her mother’s death she had gotten mad at him when he wouldn’t win her a stuffed animal at the fair and had threatened to slice him open, so he bled and bled and bled. He said she had laughed maniacally.

He lied again, when he said that she was violent with him in the locker room at school. He looked the judge in the eye, with sadness in his eyes. That fucker lied his ass off. He told the judge that he was rejecting my advances and Sophia had become enraged, violent. That she had clawed and bit him and he had no choice to defend himself. He told the court that when Sophia had heard the guards outside, she banged the side of her face off the locker and tore her own shirt and began wailing. The security guards had thought she was being raped and they attacked him.

Sophia swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat. His voice droned on, but she had no choice but to tune him out. As the observers in the courtroom became restless, their discomfort and disgust clear by the expressions on their faces, Sophia was disheartened. They believed him. Her head started pounding and she rubbed at her temples. Council bumped his elbow into hers, a sign for her to stop, but she didn’t care. She focused on her breathing, in and out slowly to count. Her vision spotted under the pain of the headache and the stress of the trial. She whimpered. She didn’t think she’d ever had a headache this bad, but it was like every other pain. Separate her mind from her body. She breathed in through her nose then exhaled through her mouth. She let her mind wander and she escaped the moment.

The next time she looked up she was watching the court through a thick mist. Her head no longer hurt, but she struggled to see clearly through the gray. She heard voices. Matthew, she heard Matthew. His nasally annoying voice continued. It grated on her nerves without even knowing what he was saying. It wouldn’t matter anyway. All he did was lie.

Someone screamed from the back of the courtroom and chaos ensued. The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. The observers in the back were jumping to their feet and this unnerved her. She was afraid, but she didn’t know why. She tried hard to tune into the voices, but it was like she was standing under a waterfall. She could hear, but she couldn’t. Her eyes burned from focusing through the mist. But she had to know what was going on. She was shivering but sweat was under her armpits and between her breasts. There was another booming voice that rolled through the cavernous room.

The mist started to clear, and she could see inside the walls of the courtroom. The chambers behind it were displayed like a TV screen. There were shifters everywhere. She whipped her head from one part of the courtroom to the other. Inside the walls, people screamed their rage. Their faces were distorted in anger. Some were screaming. Some were panicking, but most, most were angry. And they were angry with her. Their mouths moved, but the sounds were just a melded blend of tones and pitches. She averted her eyes and tried to focus on the center aisle, thinking it would be a reprieve. The room spun and the yelling grew louder, and louder, and louder until she thought her ear drums were going to burst. Her chest tightened, and she had to fight to breathe. She wheezed and tried to breathe again.

She felt a sharp pain in her temples so horrible it blinded her and all she saw was red behind her closed eyelids. It eased quickly, decreasing in severity moment by moment until the sound of the defense council’s voice entered the vacuum she had been sucked into.

“Sophia, are you okay?”

She dug herself out of the haze, clawing for every inch back into reality.

“Sophia, do you need a medic?”

“Is there a problem with their counselor?” Sophia heard the judges booming voice.

“I don’t know, your honor. Sophia?”

She felt his hand on her forearm and blinked rapidly, pushing the fog away. She choked, then gasped for air. Council filled a plastic cup with water and put it in her hands.

“Here, drink.” He looked up at the judge. “I ask the court for just a moment, your honor.”

“One minute,” he boomed.

“Sophia, are you alright? I need to know now. Judge Omen is less than pleased with this interruption.”

Sophia tried to make sense of what the hell just happened, but she couldn’t.

“Sophia,” he said again, urgency in his voice.

She looked at him, and then at his hand on her arm.

“I’m okay. I just felt sick for a second.” Sophia addressed the judge and ignored the council’s attempts to shush her. “I apologize to the court, your honor, I had become suddenly ill, but I’m fine now.”

He glared at her. “You better be, I won’t tolerate disruptions in my courtroom.”

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