Wronged

• 47 •

QOC: What is your favorite cereal?

•••
- Anna's POV -

It's an overwhelming building, really. It isn't as tall as the skyscrapers in New York, but it's sure large.

Although, it isn't even because of its size that causes my heart to palpitate and my hands to go cold and numb. It's more because of what will happen on the inside. And it's also because of the people with cameras outside — reporters. That is what's so unnerving.

And the fact that after I step out of this car and into the Denver Probate Court, Aiden can't be with me, terrifies my core. He's not allowed to be in the courtroom when they put me up for testifying.

I keep my hands clasped in my lap as I stare out the car window with unease. Suddenly my strength from yesterday dissipates entirely, and I want to back out. But then I remember that I'm in this for my family and for the one I'm in love with. Whatever happens to me doesn't matter as long as they're justified.

I release a shaky breath. "This is scary," I admit.

Lyma looks back at me worriedly and Hayley spins around from the passenger seat to give me a somewhat reassuring smile. Nico reaches around Aiden to give me a pat on the shoulder.

"Remember quote number twenty-three?" Nico asks, raising an eyebrow like a mother scolding her child.

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Nico. I remember quote number twenty-three."

Fear can keep us up all night long. But faith can make us a pillow.

I've just got to have faith during this process. Everything will work out. After all of this chaos I've experienced, I think I'm due for some good karma anyway.

"Good. Now run along. You have to save my friends' asses." He waves his hand as if to brush me away from the vehicle. "No pressure, Shortie."

"You got this, Anna." Hayley nods and grins comfortingly.

I blow out a slow breath. "Okay." My eyes shift to Aiden, who's staring at the press with an intensely hard glare. "Come on. Let's go."

His gorgeous green orbs finally flit over to me before his head nods. I reach for the door handle and open it up, putting my right foot outside first. And almost immediately, as if a flock of geese noticing someone holding bread, the news reporters snap their heads over to me. There's point two milliseconds of silence before the noise of questionnaire is shot my way.

Aiden steps out of the car instantly and shuts it behind him. Then he puts me around his body, shielding me with his arms. He helps maneuver me to the front as best as he can, blocking me with his arm.

My brows furrow in confusion and because of the pressure around me. Questions are being thrown at me randomly, and I can't keep up. I had no idea that this case would gain so much popularity. But I do suppose Colorado doesn't get much craziness from city folk like us.

Someone almost hits me in the face with a microphone. "Anna Morgan: Where were you stabbed?"

My mouth opens a little, but I close it again before I can reply because of another question. "Ms. Morgan: Why were you at Billard's Home for Girls in the first place?"