May 14, 1928

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

All of the other jurors had been seated by the time Andreas got back from the bathroom. He took his seat between Mr. Tony Parker and Mr. Robert Winchester. As soon as he was seated, Andy had his thumb in his mouth, gnawing at the stubby nail.

Looking around, Andy began to study the other jurors in the room. Caspian Cortez ‒ juror number five, and the first one to have introduced himself to Andy ‒ was seated two seats away from him. The man had his long black hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. His dark eyes glared down at the paper cup full of water in front of him. Andy was amused by the man's tee shirt and worn jeans. It was clear the man would rather be anywhere else. Andy found himself tugging at the rolled up sleeves of his own light blue button-up as his eyes went to the man sitting on the right of Caspian.

Next to Caspian, was an older man, Peter Campbell. Andy estimated his age to be around early to mid-40's. The man seemed nice enough ‒ Andy prided himself on how well he judged character ‒ as he chatted amiably with the man next to Andy, Tony Parker. Tony Parker was loud, loud and arrogant. He was the kind of man Andy made a point to avoid.

Another older man sat on Andy's other side. Robert Winchester ‒ or Bobby, as he had introduced himself to Andy on the first day of the trial. Andy liked Bobby. Bobby hadn't judged his scars. On Bobby's other side, though, was one of the most obnoxious bigots Andy had ever had the displeasure of knowing, and Andy knew his parents! Next to the man ‒ Christopher Gonzalez, Andy believed his name was ‒ was a Russian man in his mid-30's, Nikolai Yablokov. All Andy had heard the Russian man say was his name. The last juror on Andy's side of the table was a young boy about the same age as the defendant. The perky boy, Seth Reynolds, was bouncing up and down in his seat as he waited for someone to say something.

All the way on the left, sat the foreman, James Chase. James was impatiently tapping his fingers against the table as he waited for all the side conversations stop. His gray eyes were going back and forth between Juror 2, Alexander Jones, who was a younger brunette, and juror three, Daniel Lowrie, a red-headed man in his mid-thirties who seemed to enjoy hearing himself speak. Andy almost scoffed at the words coming out of his mouth. Next to Daniel was Spencer D'Egidio, a businessman who could be no older than 30. The man seemed aloof in the way he held himself, back ramrod straight and chin pointed in the air. He reminded Andy of his parents.

"Chewing gum?" Tony Parker asked, pulling a pack out of his jacket pocket and popping a piece into his mouth. He held the pack out in front of the people in the general area. "Gum? Gum?"

"Thank you, but no," Bobby said, glaring slightly at Tony.

Tony seemed to ignore Bobby.

"Y'know something," he said.

"I know a lot of things," Seth said, grinning crazily at Tony. Andy couldn't help but wonder how much coffee the kid had drunk before coming here. Certainly more than was healthy. "I'm interning at an advertising franchise," the young boy added on.

"Y'know," Tony continued, blatantly ignoring Seth, "It's hot." The man tugged on his collar as he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Really?" Seth asked sarcastically. "I wouldn't have even realized if you hadn't mentioned." The boy even added an eye roll for effect. Andy grinned into his hand. The kid was still in his sassy teenage phase.

"I suppose not," Alexander said, still staring at his hands where they were clutched in his lap, entirely missing Seth's sarcasm. "I'd kind of forgotten."

"All I've done all day is sweat," Seth grumbled, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead. Andy was almost shocked by how fast the kid had done from cheerful to moody. Oh, the joys of teenage boys.

"I bet you aren't sweating like that kid who was tried," Daniel called to Seth from the other end of the table.

The man seemed especially pleased with himself, and Andy had a sudden urge to smack the man across the face. Of course the kid was sweating. He had just been put on trial for his life.

"You'd think they'd at least air condition the place," Tony continued whining. "I almost dropped dead in court."

And wouldn't that have been amusing, Andy mused with a small smile stretching across his lips.

"Taxes are high enough."

Andy was shocked to see it was Seth had spoken. He doubted the kid had ever had to pay taxes in his life.

Bobby seemed to have enough with the complaining. "Yes, it's hot. Now that we've achieved an understanding, can we get on with this, already?"

"Okay, gentlemen," the guard ‒ Nico Novak, according to his nametag ‒ said. "Everyone's here. If there's anything you want, I'm right outside. Just knock." Mr. Novak left the room and locked the door.

"Did he lock the door?" Daniel asked curiously, leaning forward in his seat to look at the door handle.

"Yes, he did," Spencer said, nodding his head curtly. Andy fought the urge to roll his eyes at the stuck up man.

"Who do they think we are, crooks?" Daniel demanded, his voice rising slightly.

James smiled ruefully at all the men seated around him.

"They lock us up for a little while..."

He trailed off.

"And then they lock that kid up forever and that's okay by me." Daniel was smiling darkly at the thought, and Andy's urge to punch him increased dramatically. He didn't know how long he could sit in a room with the man.

"I never knew they did that," Caspian said absentmindedly, twisting the end of his ponytail around his finger.

"Sure," Christopher said, speaking for the first time. "He had an annoying smirk on his face even as he blew his nose. "What did you think?"

Caspian seemed to be just as annoyed as Andy. "I just didn't know," he snapped. "It never occurred to me."