The Terrible Trial of Kennedy Abrams (Treadmill II)

II

"Clearly," Lyla muttered, rolling her eyes before walking away into the kitchen.

"You're a very supportive friend!" Kennedy called after her as Rian sat down next to the accused murderer, her hand resting on Kennedy's arm in a way that was supposed to be comforting but ended up being annoying instead.

"I'm sorry, Ken. I'm sure that your lawyer is gonna call any minute now."

"Yeah, well I was sure of that twenty minutes ago, Rian."

"Stop picking on Rian," Lyla called out from the kitchen, her voice quiet and moronic to Kennedy's ears, "She didn't do anything to you. You did this to yourself."

Kennedy's eyes widened and she spun around to face the kitchen, where Lyla was standing at the door, her eyes trained on the other two girls sitting on the couch.

"Did this to myself?"

"You killed a guy, Ken. You killed a guy and didn't even tell us about it."

"Oh, you're right. Sorry, next time I kill a man I'll make sure to plaster it on the front page of a newspaper like that bitch whose name I won't even say."

"Technically, Rebecca published it in a magazine, not a newspaper." Rian mumbled, as if she were being forced to correct Kennedy and not volunteering the sentence of her own volition.

"Shut up, Rian."

"Ken—"

"You shut up too, Lyla." Kennedy whipped her head back around to stare daggers at the girl. "I don't need to prove anything to you or defend anything to you. Get off my ass."

Lyla and Rian were both silent as Kennedy put her head between her hands and closed her eyes. She wanted to go back to a different time. A time where she hadn't decided to pick Rebecca as her scapegoat. A time when she could have picked anyone else. Anyone. Else. In the world. They didn't even have to go to Clemson. She should have picked someone who didn't seem so nice at first. Maybe then she would have actually gone through with the entire plan like she was supposed to.

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"They did? Are you sure?"

Rebecca knew that getting the trial moved to Oconee County was good for Kennedy, but it was also good for her. As a possible co-defendant and the prosecution's sole eyewitness to the crime, she was sure that she was going to be in the courtroom almost as much as Kennedy Abrams herself would be.

Hopefully, she would only be the prosecution's eyewitness and not that other thing, but that was what she had hired her shiny, brand-new—to her—lawyer for: Rebecca Eaves was absolutely not going to be a defendant. She was positive about that.

Nicholas Richter, her new lawyer who had been recommended by David Vontaf himself, had met with Rebecca early in the morning after she had hired him, promising not to bill her more hours than were absolutely necessary. Not that she needed to worry about that quite yet—her funds from Drew Parley's Instagram account before she had been cut off had yet to run out.

"They did." Nicholas replied, leaning back in his office chair with a small smile on his face. "I know this is good for our opposition as well, but it is still good for us. The trial will be held at the Oconee County Courthouse, and you will not need to testify right away."

"Is that good?"

"Yes." Nicholas nodded, "We have plenty of time to look at what the defense is saying about the case—what their plea will be, what their claims will be. We will have plenty of time to find something to help your case as well."