Dreams of Fate by Skylar Shoar

Author:Skylar Shoar [Shoar, Skylar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-25T16:00:00+00:00

My leg bobs against my fisted hand as I sit beside Izzy in the courtroom while she speaks in a hushed tone on the phone. Less than an hour ago, she explained how, if found guilty, I could face anything between one and ten years in prison. My stomach lurches at the thought.

“Excellent work; get it all in writing and bring it to the courthouse within the hour. You can leave it with the front desk clerk.” She hangs up and leans in while touching my arm. “I know you’re nervous, but you need to relax. You can’t become an anxious mess every time we step inside this room because all eyes are on you. I’ve got this, trust me.”

A series of deep breaths calm me slightly, and I steady my leg, just as I did on the day of my bail hearing and then again yesterday while the jury was selected. When I look behind me, supportive glances from Felix, Jack, Connor, Blair, and Dakota ease the tension further.

Dressed in a black robe, a female Asian judge sits behind the raised podium, and a mixture of males and females sit quietly in the jury box.

Anger stews within, causing a sickening feeling in my stomach. That, along with the rapid drumming of my heart, becomes my sole focus as both Izzy and Joel’s attorney deliver their opening statements while they face the twelve members who will decide my fate. On Izzy’s instruction, I face forward the entire time, avoiding the gazes I can feel from the jury.

I feel like a spectator watching as people speak about me and my character. The voices of Izzy, the judge, and Joel’s attorney ring hollow in my ears.

“Is the prosecution ready to call their first witness?” the judge asks.

Joel’s attorney stands and buttons his jacket. “We are, Your Honor. The prosecution calls Mr. Lionel Burkison.”

Izzy reaches for my arm again, and I realize my leg is bobbing. I calm myself and focus on the dark-skinned man stepping into the witness box.

“Mr. Burkison, please state your name and occupation for the court,” Joel’s attorney says.

The middle-aged witness answers, “Lionel Burkison, I’m a night porter at 1215 West Sanders.”

“And do you recognize this man?” The attorney points to Joel, sitting behind the desk opposite ours. Mustard-colored bruises blemish his face, and a thin dressing covers the side of his still slightly swollen eye.

Lionel leans forward and speaks clearly into the microphone. “I do. That’s Mr. Knix, and he lives in the building where I work.”

Joel’s gray-haired attorney squares his narrow shoulders and faces the jury as he continues questioning the witness. “Do you recall seeing Mr. Knix on the evening of August the 28th?”

Lionel leans forward again. “I didn’t see him arrive home because I was called away from my station, but I was at the front desk when he stumbled out of the elevator, badly bruised and beaten after he was attacked.”

Izzy jumps up. “Objection, Your Honor. Speculation.”

“Sustained,” the judge says and turns to the witness, “the witness is reminded to answer only what you saw.

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