“I-I don’t think I can do this.” The words slip past my lips. “I don’t want to do this.”
“Hey, baby, you can. Think about how much your testimony will count. How long he will go away for. I know this is scary, but you are strong, and you can do this.”
I hold on to his words, wishing so much he was here with me. Just hearing his voice helps to steady me.
“Savannah Miller,” a clerk calls out. Agent Hahn and Frank come toward me, and I feel panic setting in.
“Cole! I…I have to go.”
“Savi—”
“Thanks for the call.” I hang up and turn my phone off. I can’t listen to what he has to say. It might break the last straw holding me up.
The clerk holds open the door as I step into the massive courtroom. Surprisingly, there aren’t that many people inside. My head stays straight as I walk past the table of lawyers whose eyes seem to be burning holes in me. My heart pounds three beats for every one step I take. I stand in front of the chair and behind the table while the officer asks me to raise my right hand and place the other on the Bible. I swallow hard, my throat dry. I’m hot. Why is it so damn hot in here?
I nervously take a seat as the prosecutor approaches to ask me a series of questions. Things seem to move slowly at first. I have to recall the day I was taken, then describe the events of my seven months in captivity, and finally about when I was rescued. I’m so tired, but I’m here, so I can’t stop now even if I want to. I keep my gaze fixed on Frank, who nods to let me know he’s with me. Then the questions start to pick up, coming at me faster and faster and not giving me a chance to think.
“You say you saw my client? But yet you said you couldn’t see his face? That doesn’t make any sense, Ms. Miller.”
“It was him, I know—”
“How do you know? How do you know it wasn’t someone else?”
“Because I know—”
The lawyer smirks at me. “You need evidence, Ms. Miller. You can’t just go on a hunch.” I start to speak, but he cuts me off again.“Now, you said my client allegedly killed Luka Donovan. Are you sure, or is this just another hunch?”
“I saw him pull the trigger,” I say, and can’t hold back a snicker. I see Frank shake his head, warning me to calm down.
The lawyer picks up a small remote and points it at a screen. “Ms. Miller, you have a reputation for getting the attention of the media, yes?” My blood boils, but he doesn’t wait for me to answer before a picture of me comes up on the screen. I gasp at the intoxicated picture of me published inUS Weekly. He flips through several, and some I hadn’t even seen before. “I’d say the camera loves you.” His voice positively drips with sarcasm. “You never liked that your father was in politics, did you? And you obviously intended to make it a rough climb for him.”
“Objection, Your Honor, badgering the witness.”
“Sustained. Mr. Wilson, please get on with it.”
The lawyer holds a hand over his chest. “Of course, Your Honor.” He turns back to me. “You got yourself into trouble with the media quite a bit, yes?”
“No, that’s not what—”
“So, you used the media as your outlet, smearing the papers with the fact that he has a drunk for a daughter.”
“Objection!” my lawyer calls out.
“Withdrawn, Your Honor.” The sleazy lawyer puts his hands in the air.
What the hell?
Withdrawn or not, the twelve jurors still heard that lie. He faces me again. “You have to admit the media was only too willing to jump at a chance to print pictures of you.”
He turns to the jurors and points a finger in my direction. “I think Ms. Miller was looking for a way to get back at her father for going into politics when he should have been at home helping her care for her sick mother. So, she made a plan with Deputy Mayor Luka Donovan,” my mouth drops open at this ridiculously untrue comment, “a plan that she would be kidnapped with the help of her best friend Lynn, who has had a small taste of political life and wants more. So much more that she seeks help from an old friend who happens to be Raul Paru, a known drug carrier for the Mexican Cartel. Ms. Miller gets ‘taken’ and stays in Cabo for several months until the U.S. Army gets involved and things get messy. Raul Paru gets spooked and decides to set up his brother-in-law.” The lawyer points to his client, who I can’t look at. “My client, Denton Barlow.” The jury looks at me, confused, like they’re trying to piece this new information together. “Ms. Miller seduced, used, and manipulated my client into thinking she loved him. She even went so far as to sleep with him. She used him for sex, information, money—”
That’s it! I hit my breaking point. I can’t take these lies any longer.
I jump to my feet with tears streaming down my face. “I was taken from my home in the middle of the night!” I scream, making everyone jump. “I was treated like a filthy animal, fed scraps, dirty water, bug-infested bread. Beaten until I couldn’t feel the pain anymore, for seven goddamn months!” I point at The American, looking him straight in the eye for the first time. “You bought me like a piece of meat. You said you loved me, and I despised you. I wasn’t like the other women who believed your words. I am strong enough to see you for what you are, weak!” The judge is yelling something, but I’m not listening. As far as I’m concerned, it is just me and The American in this courtroom, and for once, he can’t touch me. “I know the truth, Denton, no matter what happens here today. I know you’re a coward, that you buy women because they can’t love the real you. Theycan’t standthe real you. Rot in hell, you sick son of a bitch.” My arm is being tugged as an officer hauls me out of the courtroom. I’m pressed into Frank’s hold and taken into a small room.
“Jesus Christ, Savannah!” Frank says, running a hand over his buzz cut.
I lean over the table, suddenly exhausted. “I want to go home,” I whisper.