Her mom kept her head down, too, and Chloe was glad about that, but her dad’s face was turning red. She tugged on his arm and winked when he looked at her. He didn’t smile, but he took a deep breath.
Over the awful din, she thought she heard a familiar voice call her name. It sounded like Jenn, but Chloe could see nothing past the flashing cameras and boom microphones.
In reality, she knew there were no more than twenty people surrounding her, but it felt like an army of madmen, and she couldn’t imagine living like this for the rest of her life. For a brief moment, a spark of sympathy blazed for Genevieve Bianca and people like her, but that was the extent of her kindness toward the woman. Petty or not, Chloe was painfully jealous that she’d had Max for m
onths. Chloe had only gotten a few days.
A moment later, she was relieved that Max had only been connected to her for a few days, because she registered the surreal fact that there were people in the crowd wearing T-shirts that read Team Chloe and Team Thomas. If there had been Team Genevieve T-shirts, Chloe’s self-esteem couldn’t have borne it.
A lifetime later, they were finally through the metal detectors and cleared to go into the courtroom. Chloe looked back and caught sight of Jenn’s wavy blond hair. It had been her, shouting Chloe’s name over the crowd. The big sound guy blocking Jenn’s face shifted for a moment, and Chloe met her friend’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” Jenn mouthed.
As if she’d just jumped off a high dive, Chloe’s stomach floated weightless for a moment before settling into her gut with a sickening thud. It seemed inevitable now, what she would hear in the courtroom, and Chloe almost decided to flee. “Never mind,” hovered on her lips, and she only managed to hold it in when she looked back at the gauntlet behind them.
There was no turning back now. The truth was aimed straight for her anyway. May as well pretend to be brave in the face of it.
Ironically, the courtroom was a peaceful oasis. Every head in the room turned toward them when they entered, but the talk was kept to low whispers. Even Thomas turned around, and for the first time since his death and resurrection, Chloe found herself looking at the man she’d planned to marry.
It wasn’t hard to meet his gaze. The hard part was acknowledging that nervous tension was her only response to the sight of Thomas. Well, tension and a bit of bitter gloating when his eyes dropped to the floor. He actually started to rise, and when his attorney glanced back and saw Chloe, he put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and pushed him back down. Thomas obeyed easily, and he didn’t look at her again.
He was too weak for me, she realized with a certainty she hadn’t felt about much in the past month. I am strong. She’d never said those words to herself, but they were true. She didn’t need Max or even Jenn. Oh, she wanted them both at her side with a desperation that made her chest ache, but she didn’t need them.
One way or another, she’d get through this.
Space was made for her and her parents in one of the middle rows, and almost immediately after they sat, the bailiff quieted the court and the hearing began.
She’d expected something dramatic, but the lawyers got into the mechanics of the case in calm, deliberate voices. While they droned on, Chloe stared at the back of Thomas’s head. She knew that hairline. The closely cropped dark blond hair. The shaved nape that got prickly when he needed a trim. He’d loved it when Chloe would pet him there, or he’d pretended to, anyway. Her memories were no longer trustworthy. They were more like Russian dolls, the real meanings nested beneath layers of interior shells.
He might have really loved her at some point. Or perhaps he was gay and she’d been a beard. Or maybe he’d wanted her for her awesomely cool postal delivery truck.
A woman leaned forward to whisper in Thomas’s ear. His mother.
Maybe his mother had been behind the whole thing. She’d desperately wanted grandchildren. What if she’d only wanted Chloe for her womb, and once she’d had her grandchild, Mrs. DeLorn had planned to chop Chloe up and raise the child as her own? Thomas’s flight may have been an idiotic attempt to save Chloe’s life.
But probably not.
While Chloe glared at the back of Mrs. DeLorn’s head, the woman glanced back as if she could feel the heat. Her gaze was distant and worried, though, and didn’t pick Chloe out of the crowd. She whispered again to Thomas, and he shook his head.
Even if Mrs. DeLorn hadn’t planned to murder Chloe and steal her own grandchild, the woman was up to something. What the hell could it be?
The lawyers all approached the judge’s bench for a hushed conversation. Finally, the D.A. was invited to declare the charges.
The quiet room slipped into complete silence. And then the D.A. dropped his bomb.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MAX HAD ARRIVED TOO LATE. He hadn’t decided to return to Richmond until the morning. D.C. traffic had been hell, and now he was late and Chloe was in there alone. Well, not alone exactly.
He’d heard from the news reports being filed around him that Chloe Turner had entered the courtroom at 8:45 a.m., flanked by her parents. Max had arrived at 8:59 a.m. and hadn’t been allowed access to the courthouse at all. Now he stood with the rest of the crowd, neck craned and eyes fixed on the front doors, waiting for any hint of what was going on inside. There were no cameras allowed in the hearing. Justice was blind and so was the press for now.
Shifting from foot to foot, Max waited impatiently for the news. He’d been an ass, and Chloe might never forgive him, but he wanted to be here to offer support, even if she didn’t accept it. When he shifted restlessly, Max caught sight of wavy blond hair caught back in a headband, and tilted his head a little farther to the left. When the woman raised her thumb to her mouth to chew the nail, Max recognized the gesture. That was Jenn on the top steps of the courthouse.
He didn’t know whether to feel relief or anger or sympathy for her, but then there was no time to think of Jenn at all. Figures shifted behind the glass, and then a man came running out, holding a notebook high. “I’ve got it!”
The crowd shushed itself, and everyone held their breath.
Two counts of fraud.
Three counts of forgery.