I grabbed my keys from the counter of my room. I was late. Or I would be, if I didn't run across the Court to reach the trial. Today was Rose's first real trial. Evidence would be presented, witnesses questioned. This first impression could be crucially important to the rest of the trial.

In other words, not a good time to draw attention to my guilty self by showing up late.


I was in my seat with seconds to spare. The judge brought the court to order, and we began. Abe stood up lazily, as always, from his seat, pacing before the jury.

"Your Honour, ladies and gentlemen of the courtroom, The prosecution will try to convince you of Rosemarie's crime," He paused, looking at each of them. "When in fact, there isn't one. She has an alibi, a witness. But unfortunately, the prosecution has failed to realize that it is impossible to be at two places at once, hence your appearence here today.

"Listen to the presented evidence today, and don't let yourselves fall for something so ridiculous as what the prosecution is trying to make you believe." He gives a slight, charming bow, and takes his seat.

And so it begins. The stake is presented, as well as Rose's alibi, her witness, Adrian, and her motives.

The first one called up to the stand was the custodian. The prosecutor stared him down, looking quite nervous.

"Mr. Miller," she started, her voice booming in the court. "Where were you on the night of May 18, 2010?" The poor man cleared his throat.

"I, uh, I was working. In the Guardian's building. Third floor." She nods, her intimidating demeanor never leaving her appearance.

"And did you see Miss Hathaway at any point during your shift?" He shakes his head, his hands clutching each other in his lap.

"No, I didn't. My shift was from 9 to 5 lawyer nods at his response, as if it is to be expected.

"Mr. Miller, when do Guardians usually return to the building?" she inquires, turning so she is half facing the gallery and jury.

"It's busiest around ten or eleven at night," he answers. She raises her eyebrows, a staged look of surprise taking on her face, clear to all in her new position.

"So, Miss Hathaway was either extremely early going to bed, or she was out late, occupied with something else," she turns to face the witness again.

"Objection!" cries Abe. "She's making assumptions!" The prosecutor gives him a sharp glare over her shoulder.

"I'll rephrase it," she hisses. "Mr. Miller, so Miss Hathaway is not following what you would consider a normal day Guardian's timetable?" He nods.

"That would be correct."

The lawyer nods. "Your Honour." And takes her seat.


Abe stands, pacing casually in front of the custodian, whose hair seems to have lost even more of it's red colour to white in the past half hour.

"Mr. Miller," he booms. He's a show man, all right. "So you did not see the lovely Miss Hathaway at all that night, correct?" He nods.

"Yes, that's right." Abe turns to face the shaking man.

"Not once? You're sure?"

"Objection!" the prosecutor calls out lazily. "I think he's made that point clear."

Abe rolls his eyes dramatically, but continues. "Okay then. Mr. Miller, if you did not see Miss Hathaway, then who did you see that night near her room?" The man clears his throat again.

"Lord Ivashkov, sir." Abe makes a sweeping motion with his hands.

"Ah! Miss Hathaway's boyfriend!" I can see the slight annoyance written on his face. Rose shifts in her chair. "And when did you see him leave, Mr. Miller?"

The man looks down at his hands. "I didn't, sir." Abe, too, pretends to look surprised. He is a much better showman than the prosecutor, much more dramatic.

"He was there all night? Or at least until five in the morning?" He man nods. From the corner of my eye, I see Dimitri stiffen beside me. Dimka, you're not fooling anyone.

"So, why would Adrian go to Miss Hathaway's room if she was not present?"

"Objection!" the prosecutor calls again. "Mr. Miller has no way of knowing Lord Ivashkov's motives!"

Abe growls, but then gives a dramatic sigh. "Let me rephrase, Your Honour. Mr. Miller, in your own opinion, not as a professional of any sort of human psycology, would Lord Ivashkov visit Miss Hathaway's room in the darkest hours of the night?"

The man shurgs. "He wouldn't." Abe gives a winning smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Miller."


The court emptied out fairly quickly. Rosemarie was taken back to her cell. I witnessed Dimitri, watching her go. I came up behind him and rest my hand on his shoulder. He turns to face me, trying to hide the emotion from his eyes.

"Hey," I whisper. "Are you okay?"

"She's innocent," he murmers. "She's innocent. Why can no one see that?" I rub the spot on his arm.

"Some can. Abe can, I can, Lissa, you, Adrian..." he winces slightly. After several moments of silence, I speak again.

"She needs you, Dimka. You know she does. You can't pretend you don't love her. I can see it. I know you better than that," I say softly. He pulls away and walks out of the courtroom. I sigh.

Who ever knew murder would be this hard?