What Answer Can I Give?

One week later

"Good morning, . How are you today?" This insincere question pierced the tension of a packed courtroom. Violet Sharp, Clearwater's toughest prosecutor, strode up to me with a click of her heels. The alarming shade of pink she wore matched her sickly sweet tone.

"I'm fine, thank you." I replied in an even tone, bile rising in my throat. I had the urge to fidget, yet raised one hand carefully to smooth the bun had so elegantly styled two hours earlier. She and my mother had helped assemble my wardrobe for the day: a red wrap around dress, pearl earrings and black pumps. Truth be told, I was numb with anxiety and my heart rammed in my chest like a drumbeat.

"Lovely." Came a reply so sharp it made me jump in my seat.

"Tell me, what is your relationship to the defendant, Mr. Erik Andrew Donovan?" Violet peered over her horn rimmed glasses at me.

"He was my vocal instructor first." I swallowed before saying, "Now we are in a romantic relationship."

Tittering and gossip filled the room as my reply hit the air. The presiding judge banged his gavel and called "Order." in a firm voice.

Violet's gaze fell on my neck, where a silver chain holding my cherished engagement ring peeked out from the collar of my rose-red frock. I breathed deep and braced for the question I knew was coming.

"What can you tell me about the necklace you're wearing this morning?" She asked, her inflection rising with intrigue.

"It is a gift." I answered simply, remembering the reply Adrian Chandler had instructed me to give. I smiled sincerely into the small crowd of media and onlookers.

Adrian's best advice was to be myself, be bubbly and charming even when I didn't feel like it. Of course, the ring was more than a gift. I said yes a thousand times over to Erik's proposal. I loved him more than words could describe and I looked forward to the day he would finally be mine.

"Given to you by whom?" continued with her rapid fire questions.

" Mr. Donovan " I answered shortly, stealing a glance at Erik as the room swelled with whispers.

Erik sat in a chair beside Adrian, looking oddly relaxed. He was stunningly dressed in a navy blue with a gray neck tie. His hair was slicked back and a black mask graced the left side of his face. Adrian was equally as stylish, in a grey tweed suit and green tie. His blonde curls were combed to the side. It was hard to believe he was fifty years old. Erik's eyes had taken on a stormy gray hue; there was where the tension lie. His gaze was fixed on my form. His eyes flitted to mine for a moment. All I could process from him was anxiety. My poor man.

"Could this be, perhaps, an engagement ring?" She finished the question with a click of her tongue.

Adrian stood up quickly from his seat beside Erik. "Objection, Your Honor. There is no proof."

The judge nodded, saying "Sustained. Move on to the next question, ."

"How old are you, Ms. Doyle?"

"Eighteen, ." I answered respectfully.

"And how old were you when you met the defendant?" She asked, her dark eyes staring me down.

I gulped, knowing where she was going. "I was seventeen; I turned eighteen in the new year."

"So you were underage when the the fling began?" Violet's clucked her tongue.

"Last time I checked, there is no age restriction for a vocal pupil, ma'am." I replied with venom. Adrian coughed loudly in his seat next to Erik. I got his message: Keep your damn composer, Kirstin.

"Please answer the question, miss." The judge said firmly, his voice on edge.

"I was seventeen when the lessons started, yes." I answered calmly, my gaze never wavered from 's.

"It never was and never has been a fling."

"Is that so?" The prosecutor replied, her tone high and mighty.

"Respectfully ma'am, using the term fling implies that the relationship was sexual and improper. It was none of those things."

"And how do I know you aren't lying?" Violet grit her teeth, striding slightly closer to my seat on the podium.

"Objection!" Adrian practically shouted, shooting upright. " The prosecution is pressuring my client."

The Judge Mallard, a large African American gentleman, acknowledged Adrian and turned to me saying , "Ms. Doyle, you do not have to answer that."

"May I, Your Honor?" I asked innocently, an angle that Adrian wanted me to play.

"If you like." He replied kindly.

"Now, " I turned back to the frilly witch of a woman interrogating me, a gentle smile on my face "Firstly, I am a devoutly religious person. The kind of relationship you are implying I had goes clearly against the values and morals I hold dear in my faith. I would never dream of being involved in such immorality. Secondly, is a gentleman. From the start, his attention has been nothing but kind and pure toward myself and my family." My reply ended politely and evenly. Adrian nodded slightly in approval. Erik was unreadable.

Ms. Sharp's face however, fell as if in defeat. She quickly recovered and resumed her prosecutor face, which looked resembled that of an evil queen. "Do you condone the defendant's behavior toward your classmates the night of the musical?"

"I do not." I answered simply.

Violet opened her mouth to say more, but Judge Mallard intervened. "That will be all, , thank you."

I nodded to the judge in thanks and stood. I stepped out of the witness stand and across the room, my black pumps clicking against the marbled floor. Erik's eyes followed me as I moving and sat next to and my mother.

"You did well, lass." The housekeeper said encouragingly.

"Right on, baby girl." Mom echoed, her blue eyes shooting daggers into the back of Violet Sharp's head.

"That is all for today. Thank you to all parties involved." Judge Mallard stood to exit and the crowd rose in respect.

Adrian and Erik were the first to stand and begin to leave. Adrian took me by the wrist and pulled me gently into the aisle. I managed to tell Mom "Call you soon." As all hell broke lose.

Camera's flashed as pictures were taken and news anchors asked rapid fire questions as Adrian nudged me in front of him, placing me beside Erik. My beloved wrapped an arm around my waist and steered me into the hallway outside. Just then blonde newscaster shoved a microphone in my face and began, "Ms. Doyle..."

"No comment!" Hollered Adrian as he put a hands behind our backs and hustled us outside. Again we were met with a frenzy of media. "Heads down, run to the car." He hissed in our ears as the mass pressed in, leaving a narrow path to the black sedan. "Now!" He yelled. Erik and I bolted; he practically dragged me with his long, yet graceful stride. The massive crowd was a blur of color, shouted words and sharp flashes. Erik opened the door, saying "In, my love, quickly."

I obeyed and slid to the farthest side, with Erik beside me and Adrian on the end. The door slammed shut and the lawyer demanded "The Donovan Estate, now."

"I'm going home?" Erik asked in child-like relief. "Why?"

Adrian looked Erik steadily in the eyes. "We must prepare you for tomorrow. Your testimonies up next."

Hello again! I must again apologize for such an awful hiatus. I am so sorry dear readers. I doubt anyone reads this much anymore. It's hard to believe I started this story the July before my freshman year and now I will be a high school SENIOR in the fall. Wow. I hope that you are still with me and love these characters as much as I do. This story has been a labor of love! What do YOU want next for Kristin and Erik? Let me know in the reviews! Please share with you friends and most importantly ENJOY!

Much love and many blessings,

Becca