27

Monday goes by in a blur, and soon, before anyone is truly ready for it, Tuesday arrives. Professor Alden has already handled getting Alice, Mirana, and Tarrant out of their classes for the day, and since Mason isn't officially enrolled, as of yet, Professor Flora simply takes the day off and brings him with her.

Alice and Mirana find themselves in the Underland car, with Genevieve and Ezra in the front and her mother sitting in the back beside them. The Underlands had taken Mirana and Alice shopping for their court outfits yesterday, dressing them with a clear strategy in mind.

For Mirana, Genevieve had decided to present her as the most innocent, purest victim possible, in order to try and gain the jury's sympathy. That means dressing her in all off whites, which Alice had objected to, at first, but had eventually seen Genevieve's point in doing so. Imagery is everything, after all, and they could bet that Bumby would be trying the same thing. So Mirana wears a cream coloured, ruffle sleeved blouse paired with a matching pencil skirt and flats, her hair styled into a braided crown to keep it out of her face. Her makeup is done a little lighter than usual, to soften her striking features. A gentle, snowy white owl in the midst of leering crows.

Alice is taken in the opposite direction. Her style is designed to be a sort of armour against Bumby, a strength to fight evil. She is dressed in a powerful navy blue three piece suit with a silver tie and pocket square acting as accents, a white dress shirt inside. At her insistence, Genevieve had also allowed her to wear her caterpillar pin, which stands proudly in mid crawl on her lapel. Professor Alden beside her in spirit. Her makeup, although much more subtle than Mirana's, draws her sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. She's ready to face her abuser, a vigilant blue jay beside the owl.

They park on the top level of the parking structure just across the street from the courtroom. It's a grey, misty morning, typical weather, really, but today, it somehow seems much more grim. Alice steps out of the car as soon as they stop, feeling the chilly air nip at her cheeks. She opens the door for Mirana, taking her hand as she steps out.

For a moment they stand there, holding each other by the arms, not saying a word, simply gazing into each other's eyes. The looks between them say more than any words really could as they press their foreheads together.

"Don't go kissing her now," Genevieve gently chides. "You'll ruin her makeup."

Alice chuckles a little at that. Mirana merely smiles. The knot forming in the pit of her stomach won't allow her to do much else. They hold hands as they walk to the courtroom, the only shred of reassurance they've got in these little moments before they'll have to stand before everyone and fight a battle they're unsure of winning. They've received no word from the Dee family, and have resigned themselves to the fact that they're simply not going to show up. Understandable, but heartbreaking all the same. They won't be seeing any of the other witnesses beforehand anyway. Their lawyer, Wilkins, will be the only person they see beforehand.

And soon, the distance to the courtroom becomes only mere steps away, and the pair is faced with a towering white building. It is made entirely of brick, once a brilliant shining white, now faded with time to a slightly greyish colour. Above the massive arch that curls around the russet brown door, as well as embedded into the pillars on either side of the door, are elegant statues dressed in stone robes, their eyes seeming to peer down at their newest visitors. Atop the centre structure of the building is a massive steeple, supporting a shining ivory cross. Wilkins is already waiting for them, wearing the same brass coloured suit from before, and escorts them inside.

The interior is just as imposing as the exterior. The ceiling is high, spiraling up into a dome shape, lined with the same white brick as the exterior. Descending down, the wall splits into a blocky, wooden texture, dark mahogany, two long tables curving into semi circles to match. The chairs are lined with green leather, the same colour as the busily patterned floral carpeting. Everyone else is seated, and all eyes are on them as Wilkins sits them together, Alice at the very end, Mirana beside Tarrant. Tarrant himself looks nearly unrecognizable. His normally wild bright orange hair has been subdued into a hair gel infested, slicked back style, losing most of its volume, and bunned in the back. He wears a slate grey suit, a white shirt on the inside, partially unbuttoned. If Alice didn't know better, she wouldn't have realised that this posh looking gentleman and the brazen Tarrant are the same person. He catches her eye and waves feebly. He's just as nervous as she is.

Alice glances around the room, quickly finding the judge. Judge Sacha is a formidable man in his black robe and white collar, but the robe is the only traditional thing about him. Rather than wear a wig, his striking, well-groomed dark hair, — mutton chops, a thick mustache — is on full display as he surveys the room with striking blue eyes. In one hand, he fiddles with what appears to be a silver ball, rolling it between his fingers. This is the man that decides their futures. At the preliminary, he'd nearly been convinced that a full out trial wouldn't be necessary, and it was only due to the Underland family influence that they'd managed to get to this point. Rather than be on the defensive as they'd hoped, their position had shifted to the prosecutor, and Bumby pushed into a defenseless man of society being attacked by them. Today, they'd have to convince the court otherwise.

For now, though, they'd have to wait.

The other witnesses seemed to pass by in a blur. Wilkins had purposefully left Alice and Mirana for last, seeing as the they have the most compelling evidence between them, but as the cross-examinations began with Bumby's lawyer, McGowan, Alice grew a little nervous. If it weren't for Mirana's hand intertwined with hers underneath the table, she would've made several outbursts throughout the duration of the questioning. McGowan would expertly trap their own witnesses into admitting things that, while not entirely incorrect, did damage their case significantly. The jury would still offer sympathetic looks to Bumby, who merely sat there, smiling away, in an unconventionally pastel pink suit, no doubt designed to make him appear more friendly, approachable, and above all, harmless. Despite it not being quite up to standard with the sea of blue, black, and slate, with the occasional pop of white, it somehow worked for him, and absolutely infuriated Alice.

And before she knew it, Tarrant's examination and cross had been concluded, being pushed to admit that yes, they did break into the mental asylum to retrieve their own video tapes, which, there was no proof of that such tapes existed in the first place. Alice mentally kicks herself for forgetting to bring that taunting set of tapes that they did manage to steal, mentally preparing herself to go up next. Mirana would be saved for last, and then —

"The defense would like to call Mirana Marmoreal Underland to the stand." McGowan says, shuffling his papers and looking far too pleased with himself.

Alice jolts upright, looking frantically to Wilkins. It's not her turn yet! Wilkins just gives her a hopeless look. It's technically not illegal, after all.

Mirana releases Alice's hand after giving it a light squeeze, trying to tell her with her eyes that everything's going to be okay. The only comfort Alice can take in this is that at least Bumby won't be questioning Mirana directly.

Mirana places her hand on the Bible, raising the other.

The bailiff steps up to swear her in. "Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you are about to give at this hearing shall be the truth, and nothing but the truth, under penalty of perjury, so help you God?"

"I swear, by the Almighty God, that the evidence I give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." Mirana recites perfectly, without the slightest quaver in her voice.

The bailiff promptly seats her at the stand soon after. All eyes are on her, Alice most of all. What is Bumby playing at?

Mirana seats herself at the stand, carefully gathering her skirt to fall gracefully onto the seat beneath her. She's being so brave right now, staring the lawyer head on, wide eyed, innocent. Alice waits with bated breath for him to speak.

"Mirana Marmoreal Underland," McGowan says. He speaks her name in a slow, deliberate manner, gently, like laying honey to trap a butterfly. "Did you, in fact, check yourself into Rutledge Asylum, willingly, with no outside input whatsoever?"

Mirana looks at him, and says, quietly. "Yes. However —"

"And did you sign a contract when you checked yourself into Rutledge, willingly, without coercion?" McGowan continues over her.

Mirana bites her lip, takes a deep breath. "Yes, I did."

"No one forced you?"

"No one forced me."

McGowan smirks, making a note of something. He turns to Judge Sacha, an air of overconfidence about him. "There you have it, Your Honour. Miss Underland fully admits to checking herself into Dr. Bumby's care of her own free will, with a binding contract. I believe that this, along with the charges against Alice Kingsleigh's multiple break ins, for which there is more than sufficient evidence, are enough to make a conviction."

Judge Sacha opens his mouth to speak, but is abruptly interrupted by —

BANG! BANG!

The court doors are thrown open, and in the massive archway stands none other than Orianna Turkel-Dee.

Alone.

Judge Sacha seems relatively unfazed. "Miss, this is a court of law —"

"I'm a witness." Orianna says as calmly as she can. She strides over confidently, though she deliberately doesn't make eye contact with Bumby, and stands beside Mirana, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I couldn't sit at home any longer knowing there was a chance that this man," She jerks a finger at Bumby, yet still keeps her eyes lowered. "Would get away for what he's done."

McGowan smiles at Judge Sacha, though the strain in his eyes is apparent. "Judge Sacha, this is highly unorthodox —"

"I'll allow it." Judge Sacha says, cutting him off. "We have time. I'd like to hear what she has to say, Miss…?"

"Orianna Turkel-Dee, sir." she says.

"Very good. Then, Miss Turkel-Dee, we will add you to the register officially. I'd like to break for a short recess, and when we come back, we'll hear what you have to say. Everyone must return here at exactly," Judge Sacha rolls back the sleeve of his robe to reveal not one, but three, intricate watches adorning his right arm. "Eleven-thirty." He smacks the gavel twice. "Dismissed!"

There's a bit of organized chaos as everyone gets to their feet to leave the building. As soon as Alice and Mirana step out into the thinly veiled sun once more, it seems a bit of the weight of the day has been lifted from their shoulders, though Mirana still carries much of the tension in trying to keep her face at a perfect neutral. Alice, for her part, is in utter disbelief. Orianna had come after all, returned to face her abuser, despite being clearly in an unstable mental state, and yet, she'd managed to stand there and declare her allegiance all the same.

A budding bloom begins to sprout within her chest, her heart, like a sunflower daring to unfurl itself for the first time to face the world. Yet, before it can spread its shining yellow petals, Alice holds it in a partially closed position. McGowan had single handedly started to dismantle their arguments. Who's to say that he won't do the same to Orianna?

And yet, they do have the thumb drive.

But that presents another dilemma. All that evidence would not only convict Bumby, but Bibwit, Niven's father, as well. What's to stop Bibwit from denying the whole thing, from saying that the documents are fake, that none of it is real? When one's entire life is on the line, their reputation, their world, it can change them. What if Bibwit decides that putting himself at risk, no, putting himself definitely, in line for imprisonment, isn't worth it? After all, if they lose, it doesn't directly affect him. Nivens technically has no real ties to the case. Nivens didn't help break Mirana out, Nivens didn't help steal the faulty tapes, in fact, the only thing Nivens ever did was give them the files. Bibwit could just as easily deny everything and walk away. All Alice can do is hope that he isn't the sort of man to do such a thing, but she knows next to nothing about him.

Her thoughts are interrupted by Mirana tugging her sleeve, having switched from holding her hand to taking her arm. She belatedly realizes she'd stopped walking about halfway away from the courthouse, and finally registers Mirana studying her face, concern written in those dark eyes. "Alice, we're going with our parents to lunch. Tarrant, the McTwisps, and Orianna are following." Alice glances ahead and notices that indeed, the group has stopped, a few feet in front of them. "Are you alright?"

Alice manages a smile. "As much as I can be."

Mirana pulls her along to catch up with their group. "Come with me to the loo when we arrive."

Alice raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just come with me."

They decide to go to the Black Bower, an eatery that wasn't classy enough to be called a restaurant but too refined to be called a café. They seat themselves at the largest table available, and once everyone has ordered, Mirana takes Alice's hand and leads her to the women's lavatory in the back. It's a single and fairly spacious, and Mirana locks it immediately behind them. She reaches Alice in two single strides, and envelops her in her arms, leaning down to rest her chin on Alice's shoulder, her cheek against hers. Alice returns the embrace, leaning into her, just feeling her there, in her arms.

"I've been waiting to do this since the moment we set foot in that awful room." Mirana murmurs into her ear.

Alice grins. "Is that all you've been waiting to do?"

Mirana giggles, the vibrations fluttering against Alice's chest. "I was getting to that part."

"So get to it then."

Mirana pulls back with a soft laugh, just looking at Alice for a moment. Her dark brown eyes, warm, sweet chocolate, trace over the planes of her face, caressing without touching. Seeing the way she looks at her, like she's the only thing that matters in this world, reminds Alice yet again that she'd happily die for her in a heartbeat. When one of Mirana's gentle hands comes up to cup her cheek, she habitually leans into the touch, key into lock, as those fingers trace a similar path her eyes had just done, the pads of the fingertips featherlight on her face. Her eyes flutter shut, forgetting where they are for a moment.

And then she feels Mirana's hot breath against her lips, and her heart pounds in anticipation, a rhythmic drum as if it were the first time all over again, until finally, Mirana's lips claim hers. There's no rush to this. Time seems to slow down, and all there is is just her and that heady vanilla bean scent, and Alice finds her hands trailing down Mirana's sides, coming to rest on her hips, pulling her flush against her own body, arching into her, needing her close in every way possible, feeling her chest press up against hers. Mirana's hands slide back from her cheeks to her hair, nails digging into her scalp ever so slightly as her lips completely dominate hers, taking control completely, trying to show her something, to speak, and Alice hears every word, and when that tongue brushes against her lips, asking for permission, she opens without a second thought, taking all of her in, a sensual, wet tango. She feels herself being pressed against the wall, quite firmly, as slender fingers of one hand slide down her slack covered thigh to pull one leg up and around her waist, pushing themselves even closer than before. That same hand comes to rest on Alice's hip as Alice's hands move up to wrap around Mirana's neck, moaning softly into her mouth when she tugs her bottom lip a little between her teeth, bucking into her skirt.

Bzzzzz.

Bzzzzzz.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Alice pulls back, face flushed, grimacing when her head smacks the washroom door. Mirana gingerly lifts her phone from her blazer pocket, sliding the answer button and leaving Alice to try and straighten her appearance in the mirror.

"Hello, Nivens." Mirana says brightly. She retrieves a tube of lipstick from her purse and begins reapplying. "Yes, we'll be out in a moment. We were just talking." Alice has to hold back a snort at that, wiping Mirana's lipstick off of her lips. "Alright. We'll be right out."

She hangs up Alice's phone and hands it back to her. "We should go."

Alice smirks. "Right. Because we spent so much time talking."

Mirana rolls her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I could say the same for you." Alice offers her arm. "Shall we?"

Mirana takes her arm, and together they go out. For a little while, they can almost pretend they're just going out for a nice brunch with their families.

Almost.