The Sigma Asset 🏳️‍🌈 (bxb)║AMBYS WINNER 2022

58: The Trial (part 1)

Charlotte flip-flopped toward the outermost bench in the courtroom's public gallery, ungainly in her supermarket-bought sandals and sweatpants. She slid to the end of the bench, squirming like her comfy civilian clothes were lined with sand from Arenosa Beach.

"Quit it! You're drawing attention to yourself," I hissed, wedging myself in next to her on the bench, my stomach bubbling and my head ringing with nausea. "You look fine."

Charlotte straightened her dollar-store baseball cap on her head like it was sand-ridden too. "There's nobody here," she mouthed, peering over the balcony into the empty court room below.

"What about him?" I murmured into her ear, jutting my chin at a guy sat at the front of the public gallery in shorts and creased shirt, playing a game on his phone.

"He's press. He won't recognize me like this," she assured me in hushed tones.

Maybe my idea to disguise Charlotte had been a little over the top. I'd been preparing for us to lock horns with a ton of paparazzi outside the court house, and a public gallery full of journalists scribbling away at notepads at our every move, but no camera flashes or aggressive mics greeted us. Perhaps nobody gave a shit about Senator Graz's illegitimate son being kinda sketchy. Maybe document-smuggling wasn't salacious enough to tempt the press.

"I told you a hundred times, nobody is going to see us up here." Charlotte could have told me a million times, but I still hunkered down low in my seat, determined for the judge, the lawyers, and Will, not to see me. "The back three benches of the public gallery aren't visible from the floor. I checked."

"I don't know if I can do this," I wheezed as my stomach gave a violent lurch.

Charlotte reached up to her neck with a jittery hand, eyes bulging when she remembered that she'd taken off her pearls that morning for the sake of her tourist disguise.

"Please, Zeph. For me. I can't do this on my own." Charlotte took my clammy hand and pressed it to hers. "If you want to find Raheem, you need to stay calm, and listen. We both do."

She was right. We had to do this. I sucked in deep breaths, gripping Charlotte's hand like it was the only thing stopping us from falling into the void we were dangling over.

Courage, Charlotte. Courage, Zeph.

Footsteps echoed from the courtroom below as lawyers, aides, police and jurors bustled into the chamber. Despite knowing that they couldn't see us, I still peeked warily up from my lap toward the hubbub in the courtroom, terrified of catching Will's eye.

When the jurors had taken their seats, the judge began proceedings quickly. Keeping my head down was no barrier against Will's firm bass-baritone carrying over the courtroom as he recited the oath. I hadn't heard his voice for so long that my whole body shivered like he was talking just to me, silk-smooth syllables wrecking my heart as he went on.

The judge listed the charges of smuggling, aiding and abetting a crime, resisting arrest, and arson. Charlotte gave me the hint of a smile when Will pleaded guilty to everything except the charge of arson; perhaps the defence lawyer that she'd arranged for Will had a plan.

The court proceedings were pretty prosaic compared to the American cinematic courtroom dramas I'd seen. This trial wasn't gonna see explosive testimony given by sexy lawyers who pulled unbelievable legal victories from the limpest of evidence. Worse, the prosecutor's opening statement was so fucking damning that it must have extinguished any spark of hope that Charlotte might have had for keeping Will safe.

Charlotte whimpered into her palms as the prosecution went into every lurid detail of the charges, explaining how Will had confessed to collecting two hundred counterfeited biometric passports, storing them under electrical cables in his car and driving them across border checkpoints, three times in two weeks, to a container ship affiliated with el Nube at Estrella Wharves.