Hi guys, thank you for reading this far.

I wanted to give you a trigger warning - there are themes of abuse in this chapter.


Ada tiptoed in the dark towards the kitchen sink. She carefully retrieved a glass from the cupboard above her head and placed it under the tap.

The light snapped on. She froze.

Kyle stepped towards her from the living room, rubbing his eyes. "You do know that jail makes you a light sleeper, right?"

Ada swivelled around to face him. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. It'll be good to see you drink water for a change."

She rolled her eyes, turned back to the sink and filled her glass. She took a sip. "I'd rather not." She mumbled.

Kyle frowned and approached her. "Hey," He cooed, taking the glass off of her and putting it down on the side. "You know you can tell me if there's something going on."

She met his gaze and stared at him, intensely. She shook her head. "There's nothing."

"Oi," Marco called from the dark of the hallway, wearing just his board shorts. "You alright?"

Ada nodded. "Yeah, let's go back to bed." She picked up the glass and shuffled past him.

Marco lingered for a second.

Kyle took a breath and walked back to the sofa.


Brax, Heath, Ada, Kyle and Marco hovered in the living room. The boys donned suits and ties and Ada wore a smart black pencil dress.

Marco's hand held Ada's tightly. She squeezed his hand and he turned towards her, planting a kiss on the side of her head.

Brax and Heath shuffled nervously.

Finally, Casey emerged from the hallway in his suit.

"You ready?" Brax asked.

Casey nodded.

Heath hit him playfully on the arm. "'Course he is! Let's get this over with, eh?"


The group walked up the hill to the courthouse. Casey in the middle, Heath and then Kyle one side, Brax, Ada and Marco on the other.

They strode almost in unison until they reached the courthouse where Cheryl hovered outside.

Ada gripped Marco's hand tightly.


In the courthouse, the Braxton clan sat together, except for Casey, who sat with his lawyer at the Defendant's table.

"And when you got to the scene?" The Prosecutor asked the Detective, who sat on the witness stand.

The Detective shifted towards the microphone. "The Defendant was crouched down over the deceased, holding the gun."

The Prosecutor stepped forward. "The gun that killed the Deceased, Daniel Braxton?"

"Yes."

"And, Detective, in your professional opinion, is there any doubt that the Defendant shot and killed Daniel Braxton?"

"No."

"And was the Deceased armed when the Defendant shot and killed him?"

"No."

"And could you tell the court what position the Deceased was in before the Defendant pulled the trigger?"

"He was on the floor. The Defendant was standing over him."

In the benches, Heath swallowed and threw a glance to Brax.

Ada took a breath.

"And Detective," the Prosecutor continued, "From how far away did the Defendant shoot the Deceased?"

"Not more than two metres."

The Prosecutor smiled. "Thank you. No further questions, your honour."

The Judge nodded. "Thank you for your testimony, Detective Prior." She turned to Casey's table. "Defence?"

Casey's lawyer stood. "No questions, your honour."

Heath leaned across the bench to Brax. "This isn't good." He said, his voice unsteady and pained with concern.

With a stern face, Brax shot him a glance.

Ada and Marco watched as he tried to swallow his worry.

"Very well." The Judge said. "Prosecution? Your next witness?"

The Prosecutor rose. "Yes, your honour. We'd like to call the Defendant's sister, Ada Braxton, to the stand."

Ada froze.

Marco squeezed her hand.

She swallowed and stood slowly to her feet.

The boys watched as she walked to the witness stand, her legs shaking.

A guard approached her. "Raise your right hand please. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"Yes."

"Please be seated."

The Prosecutor moved towards the centre of the room. "Could you please state your name and your relationship to the Defendant for the record?"

"Ada Braxton." Her voice was shaky and high pitched. She swallowed, pulling herself together. "He's my brother."

"By how much is the Defendant older that you, Ada?"

"Um, just under two years."

"And you're the youngest sibling, the youngest of four, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Is it correct that your family lived together in a three-bedroom house in Mangrove River during your childhood? That's where you grew up?"

"Yes. But Dad was in prison for a lot of that time."

"Could you clarify those dates for us?"

Ada shook her head. "No, not really. I don't remember exactly."

"But do you remember the last time your father was out of prison before his release earlier this year?"

"Yes."

"And how old were you then?"

"Nine. He went back inside before I turned ten."

"Tell me, Ada, do you have memories of your father, the Deceased, being violent in the home?"

Ada took a breath. "Yes."

"Once? Or twice?"

"More." She said with absolute certainty.

Heath swallowed. Cheryl looked down to her feet.

"Ada, would you describe your upbringing in that home as chaotic?"

Casey's lawyer rose from his chair. "Objection, your honour! The Prosecution is asking for an opinion, neither fact nor evidence."

"I'm merely trying to establish the environment in which the Defendant was raised, your honour, from the viewpoint of someone who was there."

The judge nodded. "I'll allow it. Please answer the question, Miss Braxton."

"I'm sorry," Ada stuttered, "Could you repeat it?"

The Prosecutor smirked. "Was your upbringing chaotic, Ada?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

Brax stiffened.

The Prosecutor strode from one side of the courtroom to the other. "And in all this chaos, how did your brothers react? They must have learnt to fight back. Is that what happened?"

Ada paused. "I guess, but Brax and Heath copped the most of it, they learnt how to hit back first."

"I see. That's your two eldest brothers you're referring to?" The Prosecutor flicked through the papers on his table. "Darryl Braxton and Heath Braxton?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember witnessing Darryl and Heath being physically abused by your father?"

Ada shook slightly, as the memories flooded back. "Yes."

Heath fidgeted in his seat.

"And what about the defendant? Casey Braxton?"

"Yeah, Dad hit him too, but only a couple of times." She declared, regaining composure. "Brax would try and get in the way to protect him."

For the first time, Ada let her glance fall on Brax.

He was looking down, fidgeting with his fingers.

The Prosecutor took a step towards her. "What I find interesting, Ada, is that your father never hit you. Is that right?"

"Yes, not that I remember. My brothers would protect me, I was the youngest."

The Prosecutor moved closer. "So what you're saying is, that Danny Braxton, who the Defendant wants us to believe was some kind of monster, couldn't bring himself to hit his youngest child? His only daughter?"

"It wasn't like that. It's just the boys always got in the way."

The Prosecutor turned to the courtroom as if addressing an audience. "You're telling me that he couldn't push past your brothers, who on any other occasion he gleefully battered?"

"That's not how it would happen. Dad would swing at whoever was closest!"

"But it's true that he never hurt you, isn't it?"

The Prosecutor walked away from the bench back to his table.

Ada frowned. She looked to Casey, who stared at her with sorrow in his eyes. Her breathing sped up and her mouth went dry.

She looked at Marco, then Cheryl, Heath and, finally, Brax. They all stared at her, worry staining their faces.

The prosecutor swivelled on his heel "Ada?"

Her gaze flicked back to the prosecutor.

"No, that's not true." She declared.

"Miss Braxton, your father either physically abused you or he didn't, there's no grey area here."

Ada stiffened. "That's not what you asked."

"I'm sorry?"

Her skin pricked with rage and fear. Her eyes welled up. "You asked if he ever hurt me."

She gulped for air and then… the words tumbled out. "And he did. I wasn't physically abused by Danny Braxton but I was sexually abused by him."

Everyone in the court froze.

Ada trembled uncontrollably. She shifted in her seat and wiped a tear from her cheek.

Casey put his head in his hands.

Ada couldn't bring herself to look towards the benches. Her glare remained fixed on the Prosecutor.

He stepped towards her. "Miss Braxton, I would like to remind you that you are under oath."

"I'm not lying." Ada hissed.

Brax shuffled in his seat. The motion distracted her and she watched as he wiped tears from his face with the palm of his hand.

Cheryl hung her head, her gaze fixed to the floor.

Heath curled over, cradling his own head in his lap.

Marco rested his arm on Heath's shoulder. Somehow, his olive skin appeared pale.

Kyle sat next to them, his elbows rested on his knees, as he held his hands to his mouth.

The Prosecutor hung his head. He paced up and down the room and then finally let out an exasperated sigh. "No further questions, your honour." He said and strutted back to his table.

The Judge turned to the witness box. "Miss Braxton, are you okay to proceed?"

Ada's stare turned away from the benches and she looked to the Judge, wiping her own tears with the back of her sleeve.

"Yes," She muttered. "Ask me anything you want."

"Defence? Your witness."

Casey's lawyer rose slowly from his chair. He moved towards the witness box. When he stood next to it he reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of tissues and gave them to her.

He looked at her, with a soft gaze and she gave him a grateful smile.

"This happened when you were nine years old?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He waited for a moment, as if considering his options. He looked back to Casey, who was in bits at the defendant's table. His face was wet from the tears that streamed down his face.

"Ada, how would you describe your father?"

Her face turned cold, harsh. "He was a monster," She spat, "And I am glad he's dead."

After a moment, Casey's lawyer turned back to the Judge. "No further questions, your honour."