"And now let us end today in an Our Father," Reverend Stone says from his place behind the church's oak alter as he bowes his head and folds his hands over his robe.

Turning my head from side to side to look at the people around me, I watch as Jack (sitting to my right) closes his eyes along with the entire congregation. I follow and shut my eyes. Listening as the church is lead in prayer, I pay special attention to the words being said.

"Give us this day, our daily bread,

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.

Amen."

I can't help but think of Ricky when these words are sent out into the cathedral. It's been a week since Jack and I officially became a couple. My family wasn't too pleased with my choice to get together with him, but the smile on my face that I haven't been able to shake away is proof to me that I've made the right decision. I miss having someone above the age of four to talk to about things. I've missed holding hands in public and seeing my daughter read a book with someone other than me.

I'm not oblivious to the fact that this seems as if Jack is replacing Ricky. However, all he's doing is healing a small part of the very large wound that Ricky's absence has left on my heart. Ricky is not capable of being replaced. Despite this, I still feel guilty for putting my happiness before Ricky's, and the solace I find in this prayer makes me feel better. It's comforting to know that I can not only ask for forgiveness of my decisions, but actually be let go from my sins.

I'm stolen from my thoughts when the church stands in unison. I stand as Jack does, and realize he's telling me that the service is over. He presses his navy blue tie against his pale pink dress shirt as he slides out of the church pew. I follow him into the aisle, where he stops to greet his father and mother (both whom I've never met before).

"Mom, dad, I'd like you to meet Amy," Jack says as I slowly follow up behind him.

Both his mother and Reverend Stone greet me with a sincere grin and I smile shyly as they both offer to embrace me with a hug.

"It's so nice to meet you Amy," Jack's mom, Didi, says as she leans into her husband. "We're so sorry about Ricky."

"Thank you," I try to say without my voice wavering. It's never easy to have someone extend their pity. Jack wraps his arm around my back and kisses my head.

"How are the little ones doing? Umm John and Madeline?" Reverend Stone asks cheerily.

"Maddie actually, and they're doing fine. Jack has been a big help. Especially with John, who absolutely adores him."

"Well we would love to meet them sometime," Didi replies. "Has Jack mentioned you two coming over for dinner?"

"He has. I just haven't found the time. I have a court appearance friday in the trial against the drunk driver who caused our accident. So maybe next weekend?"

Reverend Stone claps his hands. "That sounds promising! And by all means, feel free to bring the kids over too."

"Thanks," I reply politely. I turn to Jack. "Would you be okay if we left now? I really want to spend some time with the kids this afternoon since I won't be seeing them much this week."

Jack nods. "Sure, we can go." I watch as Jack hugs both his parents goodbye. He then takes my hand and we wave over our shoulders with forced smiles as we walk towards the back of the church.

"So how was it?" Jack asks me apprehensively as we enter his truck.

"Not bad! I've only ever been to church like a couple times in my life, so I didn't really know what to expect. But I wasn't bored like I thought I'd be! Your dad's speech or whatever you call it was really good. That prayer at the end was my favourite part though."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm kind of hoping we could do this every now and again. Not only because religion is a huge part of my life, but because I think relying on someone like Jesus could really help you in a time like this. What about my parents though? Did they come on too strong?"

I giggle. "No! They're great. I just don't like being reminded of Ricky too much."

"I know, my mom. I'm sorry."

I rub my hand up and down his thigh. "It's okay. Don't apologize. I really like you're parents okay? And I really like church! Now take me home so we can pick up the kids and go get lunch!"

Jack laughs. "Alright, alright, I'm going! But before I do, can I just say that the skirt you're wearing today is lovely?"

"You're not so bad in a tie either," I wink, as Jack starts up the engine and pulls out of our parking space.


With shaking hands, I take a sip of the Starbucks coffee that I am easily too nervous to be drinking. Jack looks at me and frowns. We're in his truck, sitting in the parking lot of the city court house. It's 8:57 am. James called last night over dinner, telling me to meet him on the house steps at 9. Aware of my fear towards the trial, Jack slept on the couch last night. We stopped at his apartment on the way to breakfast after my mom arrived at the condo to watch the kids. She's the only one available to help me out this week as my dad needs to work and Margaret is going to be testifying in court.

I take another shaky breath and finish the rest of what's in my drink. Jack pops open the cup holder underneath the truck's radio and checks the time on his wrist.

"You ready?" I shake my head no. He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. "It'll be fine. I promise."

Instead of responding, I turn my head and look out my window. "There's James," I say in reference to the steps. "We should go."

I slip my hand from Jack's and unbuckle my seat belt. He follows me out of the truck and jogs in his grey suit up to my side. His hand curls around my bicep as we are approached by a dozen reporters as soon as we reach the courthouse. James runs to our aid.

"Mrs. Juergens! What are your hopes with the results of the trial this morning?"

"Have you seen footage of the crash?"

"Have you spoken with Mr. Felps?"

"Any improvement on your husband?"

"How are your children Amy!?"

The questions and camera flashes are too much to bear. I fall against Jack, fighting the tears that refuse to listen to me.

"Not here Amy!" James barks. "Jack get her inside. Now!"

Jack escorts me into the courthouse as security guards run past us and form a barricade between James and the reporters. I can hear him start to give the press an update as the courthouse doors shut behind us. Jack sits me down on a bench and helps me through deep breathes until James arrives, now accompanied by my in-laws. I hug both Margaret and Shaker, who are equally as shaken up by the reporters as I am.

"We need to head inside Amy. You need to get it together. Don't let them get to you, do you hear me? All they want is a story."

"I don't think I can do this guys. I'm sorry," I whisper through tears.

"Yes you can!" Jack exclaims, taking me by both shoulders. "You have to! You have to do it for Ricky!"


"Do it for Ricky," I repeat to myself. I continuously mumble the phrase until we are seated inside of the courtroom. We're on the left side of the judge's seat. Jack sits in a spot among the rows of benches set for the audience. Ricky's parents join him.

As the jury files in, James turns to me and begins mumbling in my ear. "I don't have a bucket with me so you cannot puke today okay? I know how this guy gets to you. He's going to try to do that everyday throughout this trial. We talked about it remember? Just tune him out, take deep breaths, speak honestly in the stand. We'll win this no problem. The only question is, by how much."

Just as James finishes speaking, a door at the front of the room is opened by a guard. Two other uniformed officers walk in, escorting a man in an orange jump suit. Matthew. His hair is shaved just as before, but his face is colder than when I first met him. A shiver runs up my spine when he catches me staring. He squints his eyes and glares hatefully at me. I stare right back. We don't break eye contact until he is seated down at his table, at which point it is James who steals back my attention. He nudges my shoulder and points to a guard.

"All rise for Judge M. McDonald," the bailiff shouts as a young african american women in a judges robe sits down in the raised platform. We stand to greet her, and sit when she nods her head in our direction.

"Case 1245. August 2013. Defendant, Matthew M Felps, court assigned attorney, Gregory Abrams. Plaintiff, Amy Underwood, attorney James Davis."

"Welcome everyone. Let's begin."

"Mr. Felps," Judge MacDonald starts, "the case file shows that you are being charged on seven accounts. One account of corporate property damage. One account of municipal terrain damages. One account of underage drinking. One account of driving under the influence with a blood alcohol level of 0.186. One account of reckless driving. And two accounts of personal injury to a third party. How do you plea?"

Matthew's attorney Gregory clears his throat. "Not guilty your honour."

I scoff and roll my eyes. James grabs my elbow and squeezes. He told me beforehand not to show emotion.

"Mr. Abrams. On the behalf of your client, please state your case."

Abrams steps around his table towards the jury bench. "My client, Matthew Felps, is a nineteen-year-old young man. In the past few months, he has had plenty of time to think about the consequences of his actions. Yes, he did drink far too much on the night of the accident and yes he is under the age of 21. He did get behind the wheel of a truck, fully aware of his impairment. However, he fully understands the seriousness of his decisions that fated night and deeply regrets the pain and harm he has caused the Underwood family. Sentencing this man with endless years in jail and countless charges simply to teach him a lesson he has already learned not only disables the opportunity for him to grow as a person, but is a pointless distribution of consequences. I thank you for your time and hope you will help me in sympathizing with my client." I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from saying something I'll regret as Abrams walks back to his table.

I think I even catch the judge roll her eyes before turning over a paper on her desk.

"Mr. Davis. On the behalf of your client, would you please state your case."

James nods his head and pats my shoulder gently as I watch him move in front of the jury. "Ladies and Gentleman, I'd like you all to look at Amy Juergens for a moment. Not only is she my client, but a friend I have gotten to know over the past few months. She is a beautiful young woman, scarred by past events that you can't see by simply looking at her. At the age of fifteen, Amy met the love of her life…"

"Objection your honour. How is this relevant to the case?" Abrams whines from his seat.

The judge removes her attention from James and coldly glances at Matthew's attorney. "Mr. Abrams, I would highly suggest you sit down and hold back any further unnecessary comments for the rest of this trial. Mr. Davis, please proceed."

"Thank you your honour. As I was saying, Amy met the love of her life, Richard Underwood, best known as Ricky, at a camp for musicians, where the two participated in unprotected sex with one another and accidentally conceived their first son John. After John was born, Ricky and Amy entered into a friendship as parents, becoming a couple soon after John's first birthday. When John was three, Amy and Ricky found out they were pregnant with a second child, and got married just before having Madeline, who we all love to call Maddie. On the night of their first year anniversary, and daughter's first birthday, Amy and Ricky went out of town to celebrate, and coming home early to their ill son, were involved in a devastating car accident caused by a drunk driver. At this point in time, Ricky remains in a deep coma with no signs of improvement, but cannot be put to death as he does not rely on a ventilator to breathe. Therefore, Amy is left alone, practically a widow, with two very young children who have both dealt with post traumatic stress following their father's accident. They live in fear they have lost a husband and father forever. They search for hope in what I refer to as everlasting darkness. They deserve justice. Thank you."

I have to wipe tears from my eyes as James returns to seat beside me. He rubs my back and hands me a tissue. I guess he wants me to seem sad here.

Judge McDonald clears her throat and looks down at her desk. "Would Julian Adriano please take the stand."

A pudgy man with thinning black hair and a navy suit stands from a row a few behind me. He coughs nervously as he slips through the gate and avoids Matthew's untiring glare when he takes his place beside the Judge. He is sworn in under oath and sits down. James is first to speak.

"Mr. Adriano, you own a furniture company in Pasadena yes?"

Mr. Adriano coughs again and leans into his microphone. "Umm, yes that's right."

"Your records show that Matthew Felps was hired on April 13th of this year. Is that correct?"

"Yes," he answers again.

"Would you mind explaining to the jury, and the room, what Matthew's job requirements were when he was hired and what he was doing with a truck belonging to your company after work hours?"

"Matthew was a furniture delivery man. My company holds 12 delivery positions. He had two other employees that he worked with. They left Matthew on the evening before the accident at 8:30 pm after their last delivery. It was reasoned with after that he had used the truck from that day to transfer friends to and from a party out of town and that he was driving it back to our head quarters during the time of the accident."

"Had Matthew had a record before you hired him?"

Adriano shrugs his shoulders. "A little substance abuse in high school. I decided to look past it. His mom wasn't doing too well according to him, and I got a boy bout his age, so I know what goes on with the weed and the joints. I thought I'd cut him a break."

James looks sympathetically at Mr. Adriano. "No further questions."

Matthew's attorney follows James by asking Mr. Adriano about Matthew's work habits. Matthew's former boss is then dismissed from the stand.

Margaret takes the stand next, testifying on behalf of our family. She re-visits Ricky's foster care past, bringing up details even I didn't know. The first family Ricky got sent to refused to take him to the hospital when he sprained his wrist. Margaret has to finish speaking over my sobs.

"That man, has ruined the life of my son, my daughter Amy and my grand babies. There is no lesson to be learned. There is a just a price to pay, and no punishment can ever erase what has been done to my son and his family."

Matthew springs from his seat, making me jump. "You don't think I'm paying for it? Locked up in his hell hole?"

The judge hammers down her gavel as Matthew's attorney forces him back into his seat. He waves off asking Margaret any questions, and the guard helps her down from the stairs. She smiles softly at me as we both brush tears from our cheeks.

"I think that's enough for today." Judge McDonald exclaims. "Normally, I'd recommend a small recess, but emotions are running high and the maturity level in a select individual is concerning. The court shall resume tomorrow at 9 am."


The next day, a paramedic from the night of the accident is sworn to the stand, along with our doctor, Scott, that afternoon. We are taken through the process of Ricky's injuries, where the jury gasps at pictures from Ricky's first few days in intensive care.

When court is again re scheduled for tomorrow, I run to catch the paramedic outside and thank him for helping us on the night of the accident. He tells me to take care.

Jack sleeps on our couch for the rest of the week and the kids stay with my mom during the day. Margaret and Shakur continue to escort us through the trial. On Wednesday, three police officers take the stand and recall approaching the accident. The officer who was, by miracle, patrolling the highway with her partner that morning is the one who discovered the scene mere minutes after the crash. She is the one who found me. At the end of the day, I thank her too.

Matthew takes the stand on Thursday. He says what I expected he would; that he's sorry and that he's learned his lesson and that he can't afford to be away from his mom. He has a younger sister. I didn't know that. For a second, I empathize with him, but the feeling is gone as quick as it comes.


Today is Friday, the day I testify. I'm the last to take the stand, at which point the trial will be over, and the jury will be left to decide how Matthew is punished. I can't help but worry that they'll see his side of things and believe he's learned his lesson. Both James and Jack tell me that I'm crazy.

My hands shake when the judge calls my name. I look from James to Jack, both who nod their head, encouraging me to stand. I exhale nervously as I push myself up from the table and creep my way towards the chair that those testifying sit in. I catch the blank stares of members of the jury as the guard next to the judge helps me into my seat.

"Please place your left hand on this bible and your right hand in the air," the guard says to me once I am standing in my spot. I do as he tells me and force myself to look straight ahead. I keep a cold face, trying to appear as collected as possible. However if anyone could see how badly my knees are shaking right now, they would know I am the furthest thing from having it all together.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

I gulp. "I do."

"You make be seated," the guard says and moves off to the side as Matthew's attorney approaches me.

"Hi Amy," he says smugly. "How are you?"

"Been better," I mumble along with a shrug.

"How's Ricky doing?"

"I haven't been to see him all week, with, you know, being here and all, but he's been better too."

Abrams chuckles. "I want to bring you back to the night of the crash for a moment. Your police statement says you and Ricky were talking right before the crash. That right?" I nod my head. "Verbal statements please, Amy."

I huff. "Yes."

"What were you talking about?"

"I don't remember. I said in my report that I don't remember."

"Were you arguing?"

"No."

"Was he upset about anything? Was he distracted?"

"No… n- no."

"Should I ask it again? Was your husband, Ricky Underwood, distracted? About anything at all?"

"Yeah Amy, listen… about that…"

"Umm.."

"No Amy.. it's about Toronto…"

"Ricky…"

"There was this-"

"Rickyyyyyyyy!"

The words shriek through my head. My eyes well up with tears. "He was… he was trying to tell me something… I don't remember what though."

"So you lied just now."

"Objection!" James yells.

The judge holds up her hand. "Mr. Abrams, quit the accusations before I have to do something I'll regret."

"No. I didn't. He was telling me something, something that seemed important, but he wasn't distracted."

"When did you and Ricky get together?"

"Why?"

"Amy, answer the question," Judge McDonald says.

I nod my head. "Sometime over the summer before my grade 11 year. I went to New York for a music program."

"How come you two waited so long to become a couple. You had a son did you not?"

"We didn't… well… I especially… didn't have feelings for each other at the time John was born."

"Did that lack of love ever trouble you once you two were wed? Having two kids at nineteen has to be difficult."

"No. I mean, there were fights yes, but I loved him. I do love him. I will always love him." I tilt to my right and look directly at Matthew. "Do you hear me? Do you understand that? I love him! I love him! And he's gone! Because you took him away from me! You took my husband away from me! And not only do I have to live with that for the rest of my life, along with my children and my family, but you have to live with that too. Matthew, I said I forgive you. That still remains true. But I will never, ever forget what you have done."

Matthew holds my stare. His face is red, and his lip quivers. He can't explode. Not this time.

"Who's Jack Amy?" his attorney deadpans.

"Wh-what?"

"Objection!" James screams, standing up.

"Sustained. Mr. Abrams, continue."

"Who is Jack?"

My heart races. He wasn't supposed to ask this question, but then again I wasn't supposed to acknowledge Matthew. I've messed up.

"He's.. he's my friend." My eyes flicker to where Jack sits. He is standing up to leave.

"Just a friend? Are you sure about that? Is that why he's walking out of this courtroom right now trying not to make a scene?"

All heads turn to the back of the room, where Jack stands still with his hand against the door that leads out into the hallway. I bite my lip as my eyes well with tears.

"I'll ask you one more time Amy. Who is Jack?"

"He's my… he's my boyfriend." I grimace as the jury gasps.

Gregory Abrams smiles. "No further questions your honour. You can sit down Jack."

The judge sits stiffer now. "Mr. Davis?"

James shakes his head. "No further questions," he mumbles. He locks his eyes with mine. He's pale. "Why?" he mouths, as I step down from the stand. I walk back towards him. When I sit down, he slips me his notepad. It reads start praying.

"That concludes the end of the testimonies. Bailiff, please escort the jury to the mediation room. We will wait to hear your decision. We will resume after a thirty minute recess." I break into sobs as she bangs her gavel.

Chatter begins immediately. James stands. "James! What happens now!" I cry.

"I don't know Amy. I really don't. Do you know how bad it looks for you to be dating someone? All that crap about how much you love Ricky? It means nothing now."

"But it wasn't crap! It was the truth!"

"Yes but that's not how they'll see it Amy!"


Jack and I sit off in a corner in the hallway for the duration of the recess. We are quiet. There is nothing to be said. Eventually, James, nursing a cup of coffee, comes up towards us.

"The jury made a decision. They're calling everyone back in."

Jack helps me as I stand. "Do you want me to go?" he whispers.

"What? No!" I turn to James. "Give us a minute?" He nods and walks off.

"Why would you think I want you to go?"

"Incase we lose and you never want to see me again."

I pull him against me, locking my hands onto his shoulders. "If we lose, I'm going to need you more than you can even imagine. I'm not mad at you, ja-honey. I'm mad at myself."

"I'm sorry Amy. If I had known…"

"Me too. But hey, listen okay," I say as we pull apart. "No matter what happens, I want you to do something for John this weekend."

"Sure. Anything."

"Back at Christmas, Ben gave John a pair of baseball tickets for this weekend. I don't want John to miss out on that. It's awful that Ricky can't go, but John really needs something like this right now."

"Of course. I'd be honoured to take him."

I smile and take his hand. We walk into the courtroom. He goes to let go, but I grip his hand harder and shake my head. He smiles softly, and I lead him to the bench right behind our table. We fold into a hug.

"Amy," he whispers into my ear, "pray."

Prayer. Right. How do I do that? I can say the Our Father. That's what it's called right? Okay. Here we go.

Our Father, who art in Heaven,

Jack and I pull apart. He squeezes my hand before letting me go. I slip through the small gate and take my seat.

Hallowed be thy name.

The judge sits down and bangs her gavel. She nods at the guard to let the jury in.

Thy kingdom come,

The jury files in, all silent and saddened. The last man holds a piece of paper.

Thy will be done,

The piece of paper is passed from the bailiff to the judge, and back to the man in the jury.

on earth as it is in Heaven.

"Jury, how do you find the defendant?"

Give us this day, our daily bread,

The man opens up the piece of paper.

and forgive us our trespasses,

I hold my breath.

as we forgive those who trespass against us,

James squeezes my hand.

and lead us not into temptation,

"We, the jury, find the defendant…"

but deliver us from evil,

Guilty.

Amen.