THE ALGORITHM

16.

Rain poured across the entire borough of Manhattan. Pedestrians could be seen walking around with umbrellas as they tried to dodge the raindrops and water puddles. The clouds were obviously not ready to let up and allow the sun to take over and soak up all the leftover rainwater. Penny didn't seem to mind. She enjoyed the sound of rain droplets dancing against the roof. It eased her mind and got her through some tough times.

Today was one of those days. Surrendering and giving up her freedom wasn't an easy choice to make. Penny felt she had no choice but to listen to Bilal and Timothy. However, she thought it was a mistake. As she sat in her cell, her mind began to wander. She didn't know them very well—they were still her acquaintances. She didn't trust them at all because they were not good people. The lockbox she found had horrendous information that was good enough to ship every person involved with the Lawson clan to prison for life.

The Bellamys were just as powerful as the Lawsons. The only difference is that they were white and dirtier. They betrayed several people to get what they wanted. Penny wasn't sure if she had a chance to fight this and win. She thought about her short involvement with Luis and how it spiraled into an unexpected death. His death didn't seem to bother her that much since she didn't have much knowledge of what happened that night until some memories started trickling in. Penny remembered him using drugs and jabbering about things she wasn't interested in. He also mentioned not investing in Bert's restaurant. The man claimed he'd never had any plans to do that. She also remembered becoming dizzy, trying to leave, and fighting Luis off. Everything else was a blur.

"Ms. Bailey." The nasal voice called, pulling Penny away from her thoughts. "This is your initial appearance, following your voluntary surrender. You are charged with second-degree murder. How do you plead?"

Penny nodded and answered, "Not guilty, Your Honor." Her attorney coached her before they departed. He told her what to say. Her words were casual without much emotion. She scanned the room, not interested.

Timothy decided to take over. He didn't want her speaking too much. It was his responsibility to defend her. He cleared his throat and said, "Your Honor, the state is pushing a conclusion that is simply false. The evidence does not support any of it. The autopsy lists blunt-force trauma, but it also reveals lethal levels of sedatives in the victim's bloodstream—one matches the same drug found in Ms. Bailey's system. She was drugged. She defended herself. She blacked out. She has no memory after the attack."

"Your Honor..." The prosecutor, Martin Parker, spoke as he stepped up. Penny placed her eyes on the blonde, balding man. He was very lumpy-looking. He ran his hand across his baggy pants and continued speaking. "Regardless of additional substances, the victim suffered physical trauma and that should be enough to know that there was some tampering and calculated—"

"Let's not create some story to feed false delusions." Timothy cut him off with a slight frown. "She cannot account for anything afterwards because she was unconscious. The medical report supports that. There is no calculated killing or tampering."

The people in the courtroom murmured. Penny looked around without much thought.

"This back-and-forth banter isn't needed," Martin jeered. "We should examine whether the defendant introduced the drugs to—"

"The state has zero evidence of that," Timothy interjected, growing upset. "If anything, we should point to Mr. Bellamy's past. There are numerous reports of him being arrested for drug possession."

"We're not here to judge the victim who is deceased and cannot defend himself." The prosecutor argued back.

"Your Honor, the toxicology creates doubt about the allegations thrown towards my client. My client surrendered voluntarily. We are requesting that the courts set a reasonable bond that reflects the uncertainty of the evidence and acknowledges my client's cooperation."