Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
If they had been successful in turning Chrissy, then added a second witness to testify to the same argument, it would work. Quinn would walk free. Bailey would be implicated, at least in public opinion, because those transcripts would get out. Press was there. Quinn’s lawyers would throw a press party.
“Who is it?”
“Quinn’s sister. Payton.”
FIFTY-FIVE
Bailey
“All rise.”
We rose as the judge came in, then sat when we were allowed. I didn’t understand why today was the day Chrissy insisted we come to Quinn’s trial. I’d not been allowed in the other days, and most of it had been kept hush-hush. They talked about it on the local news every day, but that’d been the extent of my knowledge. But today, for some reason, was the day Chrissy was adamant we attend. She put everything in motion, arguing with the lawyers until finally it was allowed. On any other day, yes. I would’ve loved to go. I would’ve been curious about what was being said, what was happening. But today? Peter was arrested the day before, and not for something he did but for something I did.
That was more important.
Chrissy was arguing with our lawyer for us to come here, and right behind her, I was arguing with him about why he wasn’t doing more to get Peter released from custody.
Apparently, the whole thing took time. Those were his words.
But we were here, in court, definitely not sitting behind Quinn’s side.
Since I was here and thinking on all of this, I gave my mother a side-eye, because when had she decided to take up the torch for anything? I mean, post her not-murder/kidnapping? Because she hadn’t been like this since Kash brought her back home. She’d been traumatized and quiet. Now I saw it in the way she was sitting firm and upright. I saw it in how her eyes were fierce and focused. Her mouth was set and determined.
Her chin was tight.
Her focus was entirely on someone else.
I followed her gaze, until it landed on Payton Callas.
That made me pause, too, because why? Why would Chrissy suddenly care about Seraphina and Cyclone’s aunt so much? As far as I knew, there’d been no interaction between them at the house. If Chrissy came into a room, Payton left. Whatever the case, I had a feeling the whole building could burn down around Chrissy and Payton and still my mother’s attention wouldn’t waver from Quinn’s sister.
Weird.
Eerie, too.
The first witness was called.
“The defense calls Payton Callas to the stand, Your Honor.”
“Motherfucker,” Matt hissed next to me. He shot me a look. “We let her go. She met Quinn and we didn’t say a word.”
Matt leaned forward next to me, his elbows on his knees.
Quinn’s team, not the prosecution, had called Payton. What was happening?
She walked up, and I hadn’t noted what she was wearing earlier. I hadn’t cared. But I sure cared now. A trench pencil skirt. The colors were dark orange. Her blouse was the same color, with a black blazer over the top. Her hair was up in a bun, set behind her head. Her makeup was on, but muted. She had the natural look going on. She was demure.
Then again, Payton was often like that. She was a quiet, in-the-background kind of person and always had been.
That was, until she got on the stand.
When she climbed up there, was sworn in, there was something more to her. A spark? No … I was thinking on it, watching how she looked at my mother and swept her gaze to Quinn. Looking at her sister, her head lowered back down. Her shoulders slumped forward.
“Miss Callas, what is your relationship to my client?”
Payton wet her lips, leaned forward, and spoke into the microphone. “She’s my sister.”
It was the expected answer. The lawyer nodded, looking down for his next question.
“Um…” Payton’s throat moved as she swallowed. Her mask faltered, just for a bit. Some of the strength slipped, but as if she needed to think of something to harden her again, she did. Her whole face grew tighter, more resolved. She cleared her throat, speaking more clearly into the microphone. “We don’t get along.”
The lawyer went rigid.
Someone gasped. A whole buzz went through the room.
Quinn shot forward in her seat, but I couldn’t fully see her face. Two of her lawyers blocked her from view.
I glanced at my mom. Her eyes were trained on Payton. They were narrowed now.
“Excuse me?” This from the lawyer. He clipped out those words. “Can you reiterate?”
“We don’t get along.”
He stared at her, hard.
She stared right back, just as hard.
A power battle was unfolding right before us.
“Miss Callas, didn’t you agree to testify today on behalf of your sister?”
“I did, yes, but that doesn’t mean we get along.”
The lawyer turned, looked at Quinn, then glanced at the rest of his team, which was having a silent conversation about whether he should continue questioning her.