The following weeks at the Price-Madsen household were anything but easy. Tension was still undeniably present, but there were little moments of optimism that promised something better. At first, any interaction between Chloe and Rachel was left awkward, with Chloe acting distant, taking time to herself by staying up in her room. As time seemed to go on, she was more willing to have conversations with Rachel again, with the two staying cooped up in Chloe's room for hours. It was so back and forth between the two of them that it was starting to annoy Joyce, now tired of the constant conflict in the house, especially from people who should be mature enough to talk about their problems with each other. She continued to let Rachel stay over, letting her deal with whatever problems she and Chloe appeared to have, though she wanted no part in it. David, on the other hand, became more absent from the house throughout the weeks. He never spoke to any of the girls about where he was during the day, only Joyce, who left for the diner too early for anyone to eavesdrop on their conversations.
Rachel continued to give Chloe space when she needed it, letting her process everything in her own time like she had promised, despite simultaneously having hours-long conversations with her during the day. Nothing about their dynamic was black and white, stuck in a bland shade of gray that was beginning to seem impossible to escape. It was impulsive, both acting almost through improv and guessing at each other's feelings. Rachel had made the decision to not leave the house at all unless Chloe was with her, just in case she would think she was out with someone else. It was completely self-imposed suffering, and maybe a little codependent, but being bored and confined in four walls of a house that didn't contain her parents seemed a hell of a lot better than any other option. Either way, it wasn't worth it to her to lose any more of Chloe's trust going forward.
All the while, Max watched their entire relationship go from complete ruins to now some foundation being laid, with a mutual understanding being shared between the two. It was quite interesting to watch, but it certainly wasn't surprising. The two had a lot of history, and while Max did as well with Chloe, Rachel was being completely honest about everything, which was admirable. It felt like every day the version of Rachel Max thought she knew from the previous timeline was shattered, replaced by one that was not only coming to terms with herself, but with others. That wasn't to say that there weren't any arguments in the house, Max heard them all, but they ended differently. There was a sense of empathy, maybe some regret, but most of all, hope.
That was all until a few days ago.
Towards the end of the afternoon, a loud ringing appeared from the downstairs phone, echoing throughout the entire house. Max had been in the living room with Rachel, as the two were starting to hang out more, and Chloe was outside working on her truck. She said the engine was busted…or something like that. Nobody really knew what she was talking about, especially after she went on a long explanation about the inner workings of the gearbox. Though as for the other two, Max and Rachel seemed to have gotten along better than expected, and for Rachel, having a change of pace with a different person was proving to be refreshing. Max wasn't a Vortex Club snob, nor was she someone who got into a lot of trouble. It was an unexpected friendship, but one that was growing into one both of them so desperately needed.
As the phone continued to ring, now quickly becoming annoying, Max walked over to answer it, though was feeling somewhat reluctant.
"Hello, this is the Arcadia Bay courthouse. Who am I speaking with?"
Max glanced over at Rachel, who was watching from the couch. "This is Max Caulfield."
She was starting to become nervous, not really knowing what the woman on the other end of the line was going to tell her. She sounded middle aged, maybe older.
"Great. I would like to inform you that the court date for your trial has been scheduled for next Monday."
Max could feel her throat getting tighter, hand gripped around the old-school phone as the woman thoroughly explained more details. It was finally happening.
The entire phone call lasted much longer than she had anticipated, but she was left confused, mostly from all of the legal jargon. The court date for the trial involving the Prescotts and Mark Jefferson was set to happen in exactly one week, leaving little time to prepare. Everyone at the house would be expected to show, especially David Madsen, as he was mentioned as one of the witnesses. Max had absolutely no idea what to anticipate, only knowing the process from TV shows and movies. On the phone call, the receptionist had also mentioned the entire court process, the dress code, as well as the time schedule for the entire trial. It was a lot for Max to take in. It felt like she was the one leading the group, and while she knew she could handle it, she really needed someone else to step in right now.
Max's heart raced, hanging up the phone and making her way back over to Rachel who had been intently listening the entire time.
She narrowed her eyes at Max as she began to sit down on the other end of the couch. "That sounded serious."
"Yeah," Max leaned back and sighed deeply. She genuinely couldn't believe the trial was happening so soon. "It was from the courthouse. The receptionist said the trial is next week."
One week until it was all going to be over. All of the additional stress and legalities it all brought would be solved, giving everyone a blank slate. Hopefully. Who knew what could happen next?
Rachel instantly looked tense, rubbing her forehead in annoyance, "So it's actually happening, isn't it? I mean, I believed you the first time, but getting a call from the courthouse is only making it more real."
Interrupting the conversation, the front door slammed open with Chloe suddenly walking in, face and hands covered in grease from being under the hood of her truck. Without wasting any time, she made her way into the kitchen, trying to wipe her hands off with one of the kitchen towels laying on the counter, only to be left frustrated when it only seemed to make it worse. She knew Joyce wouldn't be too happy about yet another towel getting ruined when she would come home later. Oh well.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge to take a break from being outside and noticing Max and Rachel looking quite stressed over in the TV room, Chloe curiously walked over to sit on the coffee table, joining the conversation.
The two had been silent the entire time she was inside, which only made her grow more suspicious.
"Did I interrupt something, or?" She looked at Rachel, then at Max, furrowing her brow at their lack of expression. It was so obvious that they were hiding something. Instead, Chloe decided to start her own conversation since they weren't going to talk. "Well anyways, I managed to somewhat fix the engine…the problem was with the spark plugs, believe it or not."
Chloe mustered out a small laugh, almost hoping for some kind of response even if it was met with disinterest, but got something much different instead.
"We have a slight problem, too, Chloe." Max urgently sat up. Her tone was already making Chloe nervous. "The courthouse just called and said the trial is next week. We all have to go and testify in front of a judge."
"Really?" She looked over at Rachel, becoming apprehensive. Chloe had never been to court—none of them have. Not only did they know nothing about the process, but no one really believed it was actually going to happen, not truly understanding the severity of the situation.
Max just nodded, "Compared to everything that's happened in the past two months, this should be the least stressful thing any of us have done. But," She started to play with the seams on the edge of the couch cushion, growing uneasy, "I can't help but feel like something big is going to happen. I feel like this is all my fault."
She held a lot of guilt over everything that had happened since she came back to Arcadia Bay, and this was no different. Even saying it all out loud, sharing her powers and reasons for staying, didn't seem to change anything. They were all going to be forced to testify in front of not only a judge, but the public as well, leaving no room for any secrets. The small town was notorious for getting into everyone's business.
"Max Caulfield," Easing the tension, Rachel and Chloe shared a look of understanding with Max, "You beat yourself up more than anyone I've ever known."
If anything, it was kind of everyone's fault…and nobody's at the same time. It still didn't help her feel any less guilty.
Everyone in the house was downstairs bright and early, anxiously waiting by the front door. Adrenaline was heavy in the air, leaving a feeling of being rushed to arrive at the courthouse on time. Keys rattling in between hands, the tapping of feet against the carpet, and occasional mirror checks filled the time. Unsurprisingly, Chloe was running late, nearly tripping down the stairs trying to put her shoes on, wearing a slightly too small blazer that she happened to find in the back of her closet. It wasn't like any of them had very formal clothes, not used to attending anything that would even require business attire. Well, except for Rachel. She would never show up unprepared for an event where the whole town might see her sudden appearance in something that wasn't somewhat put together. She did have an image to fill, regardless of whether she liked it anymore.
Max recognized Chloe's blazer, however, from William's funeral, making her feel emotions she didn't want to feel that morning. It couldn't even be buttoned and the sleeves were way too short, making it look a little ridiculous, but somehow Chloe was able to pull it off. Of course, she could.
Though, as soon as Chloe was downstairs, Joyce and David immediately left, heading out to David's car parked out in the street. They couldn't be bothered to show up to a serious court trial late. A warm breeze swept through the entrance of the ajar front door, making Max hold onto the handle so it wouldn't slam shut. The clock was ticking.
"Ready?" Rachel wrapped her arm around Chloe's, resulting in an eyebrow raise at the sudden movement, and nodded at Max to signal to her that it was finally time to leave. The sound of clacking heels was heard against the pavement, followed by heavy boots.
The three were all packed together in the truck, driving through the empty streets of Arcadia Bay to the courthouse. Nerves were running high as no one said a single word the entire ride. It was a damn good thing Chloe managed to fix the engine, otherwise, they would all be forced to either walk or take the bus…which would've definitely taken too long.
Immediately upon entry, two older security guards guided the three girls through a metal detector, making them empty their pockets into little plastic bins, similar to if they were about to board a plane. The cigarette packs from Chloe and Rachel received some eye rolls, but no further questions were asked, thankfully. It was a little surprising seeing such security measures being taken in a little town like Arcadia Bay, but it was likely funded by the Prescotts. Most things in that town were anyways.
After passing through security, albeit rather quickly, they made their way to the front desk where a receptionist signed them in and led them down a long hallway to the main courtroom. Despite being a small town, the room was larger than expected. The decorations, not that there were many of them, were plain and boring, lacking any sort of personality. A metal pole held the American flag and the Oregon state flag at the front of the room, both of which were completely still. Natural light filtered through the opened windows on the left, shining on the light brown walls. The courtroom distinctly smelled like an old office, with fluorescent lights flickering above, desperately needing to be replaced.
Nobody spoke, trying to listen to everything the rather kind receptionist was saying, as she was leading them to the table at the front of the room. The wooden table, equipped with three leather swivel seats, had clearly been through years of wear, appearing worn around the edges with chipped paint. They all sat down and the woman left, leaving the three to themselves. There were little bottles of water provided on the table, as well as tissues. Max just hoped there wouldn't be a need for that.
"Damn." Chloe was looking around, taking in everything. "This is actually happening."
They would all be lying if they said they didn't at first think this was some kind of twisted joke, meant to waste their time. Maybe they were naive, and maybe their memories were getting the better of them, but sitting in the very front of a courthouse with unknown people surrounding them was intimidating. There was obviously no doubt that the situation was serious—it's partially the reason why Max was manhandled in an effort to take her to the police station by that asshole cop. A lot more was going on behind the scenes, more than anyone wanted to say, and that was the scariest part of it all.
The Judge swiftly entered from the back room, carrying a stack of paperwork. Other members of the court were beginning to sit down at their designated spots, presenting themselves stoically. The courtroom was filling up quickly, with voices from the incoming members of the public heard from behind the three, crowding the benches. Joyce and David were sitting directly behind them, and other familiar faces were showing up in the room, whispering and making gestures that were only making each of them more nervous. This was no secret case anymore. It looked like the entire town was there.
News about the potential kidnapping and assault of Rachel, alongside Chloe and Max, spread like wildfire throughout Arcadia Bay, appearing not only on social media, but on newspapers and flyers. The three never left the house much, not coming into contact with anyone from the outside world, so they had no idea how much publicity this entire case got. The number of people showing up was astounding, growing in size by the minute.
James Amber was talking with the Judge at the front, acting more friendly than anyone had seen him, only to later join the girls and sit next to them, slightly to the right. He smiled, though seemed to have a growing annoyance, mostly shown through his tense expressions immediately after being seated. Maybe it was just how he always was, Max thought, especially in court.
To the left of the room was another large table for the defense, assumingly where the Prescotts were going to sit. It was empty for the time being.
It was a waiting game at this point, leaving everyone to their own thoughts. Chloe and Rachel occasionally joked around, sometimes being a little too loud and getting a look from Mr. Amber in return, but they were just trying to lose the tension in the air, while Max was left to observe the room. The jury was on the right hand side, seated behind a wooded barrier with two rows of chairs. They seemed decent, hopefully well versed enough to bring the proper justice to the case, but it was hard to read anyone's expressions. It seemed like most of them were older, and only showed up because of jury duty.
The room was growing stuffy and hot. Max sat on the left end of the table, the nearest to the defense side, with Chloe sitting in the middle between her and Rachel—who was right next to her dad. She wasn't fond of being so close to him, but knew she had no choice in the matter. At least he was representing their side, and despite him being a liar about Sera and putting people in danger to hide the truth from his daughter, he was a damn good District Attorney.
Suddenly out of nowhere, the sound of rattling handcuffs followed by the urgent rustling of clothes was heard coming from the back of the room. Two police officers arrived and opened the swinging door to escort Nathan Prescott, who was wearing a neon orange prison jumpsuit, into the courtroom. His father quickly trailed behind, dressed in a well-polished suit, accompanied by his lawyer. He glared at the three girls as they both began to sit down across the room. The Prescotts were going to put up a hell of a fight that morning, and everyone knew it. They didn't even have to say a single word for anyone to understand. It wasn't surprising though, Sean had to protect his family name, and especially so since he was starting the production of his 'Pan Estates', a real estate project that was going to take away jobs and precious natural resources in the town. Clearly, Sean Prescott didn't care about the environment...or anyone else for that matter.
Max was beginning to sweat seeing Nathan dressed like that and under such high security. Nothing was making sense, especially with how she was told that no one was able to gather much information from the darkroom to begin with—which made her believe that the trial was going to be quick and easy. In and out, no big deal. Now that there was more mystery being added to the whole situation, it was unsettling to watch the Prescotts across the room. How did they even find them?
With everyone now in full attendance, the trial could begin. It was showtime.
"All rise!" The Court Security Officer yelled from the front podium, making everyone in the room stop their incessant chatter and bow to the judge. "The court is now in session. Please be seated."
The room went silent while the Judge was gathering some of the paperwork. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his late fifties, with a slightly balding head and wore round reading glasses. He didn't seem very threatening, almost reminding Max of her grandparents. The nameplate that sat in front of him said 'Judge Murphy', well polished and glimmering the ceiling lights off of it.
"Good morning." The Judge smiled at everyone, "This is the case of Max Caulfield, Chloe Price, and Rachel Amber vs. Nathan Prescott and Mark Jefferson, who is…" He and nearly everyone in the room glanced over at the Prescott's table, noticing the empty chair almost waiting for someone. It couldn't be. He was dead. "...absent. Is the council ready to proceed?"
The Judge and the jury spoke briefly, mentioning words that flew right over Max's head, making her feel like she had no idea what was going on. She assumed Chloe was probably feeling the same way, judging by the fact that she was barely blinking, zoning out at all the confusing legal speak.
Some people got sworn in, holding their hand over a Bible, and others were stating codes of law and violations and…it was too much to understand. This was nothing like Judge Judy, or any crime show for that matter, and it was definitely lacking in entertainment. Where was all the drama anyway?
Mr. Amber stood up and straightened his tie before beginning to make his opening statement. The way he commanded respect out of everyone in the room so instantaneously was telling. He was admired, and had put a little too much time into this case. For something so significant though, and potentially national newsworthy, there was a lot at stake.
"Good morning your Honor, and members of the Jury." He bowed in respect, "I will be representing the prosecution in the case involving the kidnapping and assault of these three girls sitting beside me. They are charging Nathan Prescott and Mark Jefferson with violations of the Oregon code 163, with willful and deliberate Attempted Murder, alongside the charges of Kidnapping of the First Degree, Assault, and Accessory to Attempted Murder, of both a minor and two legal adults." His tone was sharp, giving the Prescotts a nasty glare.
Chloe glanced over at Max, noticing her begin to look worried. It was the way she was swiveling back and forth in her chair with her eyes darting across the room, anxiously watching the Prescotts, that clued her in. There wasn't much she could do, not knowing the rules of the court and not wanting to get in any trouble. Even Rachel looked stressed–and she could usually hide it pretty well–knowing that even the mention of the word 'assault' and 'murder' probably was drawing out a lot more memories she never wanted to think about again. Or remember. She crossed her arms and leaned back before James Amber continued his statement.
"During the week of April 15th through the 19th, Rachel Amber, Chloe Price, and Max Caulfield were illegally taken captive inside the Arcadia Bay lighthouse, then subsequently transported to Mr. Prescott's bunker on the morning of April 18th. They were kidnapped, drugged, and put under as subjects to Mr. Jefferson's illicit, sexual, and heinous photography project, which had been hidden from the public. For the safety of the community, and the students at Blackwell Academy, we will prove that not only were the Prescotts involved in accessory to Mark Jefferson's Premeditated Murder, but also the outrageous number of victims Mr. Jefferson took under privately."
Is he talking about those red binders that were in the Darkroom? Were the police investigating more? I thought there was no evidence?
Max was twisting the bracelets on her arm, feeling very restless at the sudden new information James was sharing. It was becoming evident that there was more found in the darkroom that wasn't mentioned beforehand. Whether it had something to do with the case itself, or what James said about the previous victims, it was going to be shocking.
Nobody in the courthouse other than Mr. Amber and a few of the police officers knew about their hidden investigation done over the past few weeks. It was incredibly stressful and frustrating at the same time, but it was how they were able to track down the Prescotts in the first place, allowing the trial to happen so soon. Otherwise, it would have happened late in the year, or not at all since it was lacking any reputable evidence. They were able to form a ragtag team, all with the help of David Madsen and the Portland Forensic Services Division, who relentlessly searched day and night throughout the Bay for anything they could find relating to the case. Without them, this trial wouldn't have seen the light of day.
"Very well." Judge Murphy nodded at James to be seated, and turned his attention to the other table, "Does the Defendant's attorney have an opening statement?"
"Yes, your Honor." Sean Prescott's lawyer stood up. He was a slender guy, maybe six feet tall, but judging by the way he was acting, he was clearly paid top dollar for representing their side. "The charges made against my clients are hearsay."
A gasp came from the audience, adding to the drama Max was wanting to see. Maybe this was turning into a reality show.
"They lack any reputable evidence, as you will hear that Nathan Prescott was not present at the supposed darkroom they claim to exist. If anything, they were trespassing on Mr. Prescott's property to begin with, nullifying any consequences. We will show that Nathan Prescott was merely a student, learning from the best photography teacher in the nation, and that nothing done was illegal or completed in bad manners."
Max let out a choked laugh at the information said and leaned back comfortably in her seat, now with any sense of anxiety she previously had washed away, like the tide from the ocean. Between the overreactions and blatant lies, the last thing Max was concerned about now was the trial. The Prescott's hired lawyer was a complete joke.
'Nothing done was illegal' my ass. There was nothing legal about what happened.
The Judge slammed his gavel down at the overreactions in the audience, allowing the Prescott's lawyer to sit back down and turned to gesture at James. "Mr. Amber, you may call up your first witness."
Up until this point, the only information the courthouse receptionist gave over the phone was that David Madsen would be called up as a witness. Everyone else had no clue how involved they would each be, letting an underlying nervousness set the tone.
James surprisingly looked over at Max while he was standing, motioning with his hand for her to stand up. While Max assumed she would probably have to speak in court, she certainly didn't expect to be the first witness called. She still wasn't very nervous anymore, now after hearing the Prescotts' side of the story, but didn't want to mess anything else up, including the legalities of talking in front of a judge.
"You got this." Chloe leaned over to whisper to Max, squeezing her shoulder. It was the only bit of reassurance she would get, and dammit, she would take it.
Max was escorted by James to the front podium right next to the Judge, as she couldn't walk up there alone. Court laws, or something. It was a little daunting to be speaking about everything that had happened in front of the entire town, but she had no other choice.
The entire process of getting sworn in under oath, followed by the usual questions of name, birthday, residency, and so forth was done quite easily. It looked a lot more complicated watching other people do it on TV.
"Max Caulfield," James continued to stand, now facing her to begin the questioning, "Tell us exactly what you remember from the darkroom."
It was nearly two full months ago by this point, yet she could remember it like it happened yesterday. Being taken into the lighthouse. Meeting Rachel and finding Chloe. Drugs. Nosebleed. Waking up in the darkroom. Nathan threatening to shoot Chloe. Jefferson. David. Gun. Shot. Hospital.
Max thoroughly explained everything in detail, not letting much be left a secret. There really wasn't much she couldn't share, other than her powers, but she knew that. Trying to stay consistent with what she said in the police interview weeks ago, now in front of an intently listening audience and jurors who could potentially change the fate of the Prescott family forever, was extremely nerve-racking, however.
"Did you fire the gun at Mr. Jefferson?" James raised an eyebrow, but stated the question calmly.
Eyes were all on Max, making her hands begin to slightly shake. It wasn't even that big of a deal, but she had to word it correctly, otherwise, the Defense lawyer could manipulate her words into being a murderer. Just like what had happened before. "Yes, while he was facing away from me, attacking David Madsen."
"I see." The Judge nodded at James, and gazed out into the audience, "Let's bring Mr. Madsen up to testify then, shall we?"
A police officer that had been leaning against the wall ushered David up from the public seating, and was sworn in like Max had been, letting her go back to the table with Chloe and Rachel, who both gave her a reassuring smile.
"You killed it up there, SuperMax." A discreet high five was given underneath the table.
Max lightly laughed at the nickname, "Thanks, Chloe." She reached over to the small bottle of water provided for each person on the table, unscrewing the plastic cap. Her throat was scratchy after talking so much, not realizing how much time had passed.
The large clock that hung above the Judge's bench read 11:35am. They arrived at the courthouse at seven in the morning—way earlier than anyone would have liked—and Max seemed to be up on the podium for nearly an hour. Who would've thought the time would pass so quickly?
As David Madsen was giving his testimony, he was mentioning the exact same information Max said, only further proving the point that the Prescotts were seriously in trouble. While there was a significant lack of physical evidence, no one could possibly deny the same story being said by multiple witnesses, multiple times. By this point, it was getting incredibly boring and monotonous.
The trial was beginning to run so late into the morning that the Judge had to call a lunch break, which promptly kicked out any members of the public who were getting tired of being there, realizing that it wasn't nearly as entertaining as they had thought. At least it wasn't going to be a packed house anymore, giving what had to be said more room without further speculation and judgment.
Upon entry, the courthouse cafeteria was small, almost like a bistro or small town coffee shop. There were some tables set up, as well as a buffet styled cart filled with all sorts of food. Sandwiches, salad, soup. Vending machines with different types of soda and water sat on the far back wall. Everyone was finding a place to sit down, and Max, Chloe, and Rachel sat at one of the larger tables to make room for Joyce and David to join them. It was becoming hectic in there, and with how small the room was, wasn't making it any quieter.
What they don't seem to mention in TV shows or movies is that there are no legitimate breaks when it comes to court. The jury is always watching, or at least that's what it felt like. Anytime the Judge was seen entering a room, it was like everyone went quiet, hesitating to speak. Not to mention the onslaught of journalists and news reporters anxiously waiting outside the courtroom, hassling everyone that dared to leave. The sounds of cameras and flashes going off, as well as microphones being shoved in people's faces, made for an unsettling environment. Luckily, the reporters weren't allowed in the cafeteria.
By this point, Chloe had angrily taken off her blazer, wrapping it around her waist in protest. It was constricting, hot, and scratchy, and she just wanted to wear her normal clothes again. Fuck business attire.
Everyone was beginning to sit down to eat, but Chloe was growing concerned. After hearing Max and David go up to testify, it was rather strange that she wasn't called up with them. Then again, the time seemed to get away from everyone, causing them to call a lunch break. But there was still no further information being given, so it was like a game of chance with what would happen next.
"I'm kind of surprised I wasn't called up as a witness." She glanced around the table, "I mean, I was there, you know?"
"The trial's not over yet, Chloe," Joyce simply reminded her, "I would still plan for it to happen." Everyone seemed slightly on edge, some more than others, not used to such an event. Joyce just wanted everyone to be prepared, especially her own daughter. "And Max," Joyce looked across at her, eyes sympathetic, "I'm proud of you. That's not easy saying what you said in front of so many people."
Max smiled back, "Thanks, Joyce." It really felt good to have so many people supporting her, even if they didn't all know the whole story. Impatiently, she stuck her fork into her salad, mixing all the toppings together. "It sounded like they found more evidence in the darkroom." She said casually while pouring the little cup of salad dressing into the bowl, "I have a feeling they're going to show some pretty disturbing pictures."
When James had mentioned earlier the other victims of the darkroom, nobody else probably caught it, but Max definitely did. His implication that there were more people taken by Jefferson only meant that the investigation found the binders, housed by lock and key, in the storage cabinet behind the desk. There were so many questions Max had, especially since the only binders she went through the first time with Chloe were Kate Marsh's, Victoria's, and Rachel's. They were horrific, showing pictures that no one should see or take in the first place.
Chloe tilted her head, confused. "Like the ones Jeffershit took of us?"
"Chloe–language." Joyce sighed, with David joining her in giving Chloe a look that made her stop talking. She didn't want to fight.
"No," Max shook her head, "like the ones he stored for each person in a red binder. There were so many locked up in a cabinet and—"
Everyone at the table looked at Max questioningly, making her feel put on the spot. She shouldn't have opened her mouth.
"Crap," She slapped her hand against her forehead, "Did I seriously forget to tell you guys?"
Of everything Max thought she had said about her past, she never even thought to mention the actual discoveries she made previously in the darkroom—and even in Blackwell. She wasn't trying to hide it from anybody, just not recalling the memories as they weren't very important. And she didn't just find the red binders, but there was also the creepy drawing on Principal Wells' computer from Nathan. The one that kept saying, 'Rachel in the darkroom. Rachel in the darkroom.' all scribbled manically. Then there was her investigation of Nathan's bedroom…which by itself was unsettling enough. The projector, the whale sound machine, the strange pictures. Regardless, based on what James was saying though, it didn't matter if no one else knew, because they were definitely going to be shown the contents of the binders one way or another that day.
"Max, please tell me they aren't bad." Chloe became tense, looking over at Rachel for reassurance who was acting more quiet than usual, picking at her food.
"They're not…" Max was hesitating, knowing that it was a huge lie, quickly realizing that now was not the place to be saying such things. Especially with so many lawyers and jurors nearby. "Just forget I said anything, you'll see them anyway, I'm sure."
The time was called and the lunch break was over, with everyone making their way back into their spots in the courtroom. Immediately, the vibe was tangibly different. Mr. Amber was up front talking with another lawyer, who appeared to be representing his side as well. He must have been sitting near the back, as nobody at the table could recognize him. The conversation seemed to last quite a bit longer, as everyone in the public was patiently waiting in their seats. A front side door opened, with James and the lawyer helping to wheel out a large projector screen, which was followed by some assistants setting up all the electronic equipment.
There was still no way to tell what was going to happen.
As the remaining officials began to be seated for the trial to continue, the Judge gave Mr. Amber a look that prompted him to turn to Rachel. They were whispering about something, with Rachel looking back at Chloe, now extremely nervous, making her grab her hand for a moment.
"Rachel Amber," The Judge glanced over, noticing her waiting to stand up, "You will be asked to testify in a moment. I just need to gather the final documents."
Chloe nor Max had ever seen her look so nervous, visibly shaking her leg under the table. It was rather unexpected for her to be called up as a witness, especially since Rachel was practically unconscious during her stay in the darkroom, but she was awake at the lighthouse. There was something major going on—or found—and the projector being started up was only adding to that feeling.
Luckily, most of the guests in the public seating area had left over an hour ago, leaving only close family members and friends to stay back. That was about the only relieving thing Rachel had going for her, as being that she was asked to testify meant that she would have to talk about her past…and she just did that with Chloe weeks ago. And she had to pay for that, relentlessly trying to get Chloe to talk to her, preventing herself from leaving the house and living a normal life. She could've never predicted that it was going to go like this, and while she was at least getting somewhere with Chloe now, there was still so much that needed to be said. Moments ticked by on the clock. It was getting closer.
Rachel could feel the heaviness in the room, almost like everyone was holding their breath for her to speak. Waiting for her to confess to her fucked up life. It was probably just something she was making up in her head, but it felt like it was true. Rose Amber was seated in the way back of the room, withdrawn from the whole ordeal. Rachel didn't blame her, though.
After a small gesture from her father, followed by a signing of a document, Rachel was taken up front, sitting next to the Judge like Max and David did.
"So, Rachel," James' lawyer was now asking the questions, probably to avoid any potential issues being related to Mr. Amber would cause. "When did you arrive at the lighthouse?"
So it's not about the darkroom. Hm.
Max glanced over at Chloe, who was attentively watching Rachel, having the entire room blocked out from her focus. It was a different kind of attention, one that wasn't pleading for answers, but instead was almost trying to reassure her.
Regardless, the atmosphere was filled with uneasiness. It didn't matter what Chloe did, she couldn't stop the questioning. No one could.
Rachel continued to keep her focus on Chloe, feeling like she was the only one in the room who seemed to care. "In late March. But I chose to go there to see Mark Jefferson." God, she really didn't want to talk about it. "He was helping me with my own…projects."
A few looks of suspicion were shared, "What kind of projects?" The lawyer's words were slow and deliberate.
"I was trying to make a modeling portfolio."
Chloe's face shifted in response, making Rachel feel more tense. While she knew about Rachel's desire to do modeling, she didn't know she was actively working on it at the time. That, and the exact details of how she managed to fill her portfolio was too uncomfortable to talk about, leaving that explanation to be avoided.
Behind the scenes working with Mark Jefferson alone, Rachel would visit him often, appearing at impromptu photo shoots that seemed to only center around her. At first, it almost felt like love. Some kind of twisted love that neither one could describe, or that was at least how Rachel interpreted the whole thing. It wasn't a feeling she had felt with anyone else, because it seemed like Jefferson understood a part of her she never wanted to express outwardly. Some deep inner side of her that only he could see. However, it quickly got more illicit and threatening, with Jefferson wanting to push the boundaries further and further. Demanding certain actions and forcing her to keep quiet about their time together, he was relentless. By that point in Rachel's life, she saw no other option, wanting to do whatever she could to leave the hellhole called Arcadia Bay, the place she was still stuck in. Maybe there wasn't ever going to be a way out after all.
The lawyer clicked his pen, making a slightly annoying noise. "So when exactly did your stay at the lighthouse become permanent?" The way he was asking the questions was filled with so much judgment, it almost seemed like her dad had written them.
"Around the same time Chloe and Max showed up," She looked over at the two, "Maybe a few days before?"
It had been a while, and wasn't something she had too great of a memory on. The lighthouse, in particular, was a horrid place to be, for multiple reasons, causing her to block it out from her thoughts with no reason to return.
"I see." The lawyer grabbed the remote for the projector off the table and replaced the pen, now fidgeting with it in his hands, "The hospital also provided medical records of your stay, indicating that you were admitted for an overdose, is that correct?"
"Yes." Rachel was starting to hold back, as Chloe was watching her grow more uncomfortable. "That's correct."
What the hell are they going to show on that projector?
The lawyer headed over to the Judge, handing him a few papers of the medical records only to stand directly in front of Rachel. He had a growing attitude that she wasn't appreciating. The guy knew nothing about her anyway. "Can you tell us anything about that? How frequently were you drugged, to the extent that it would lead to an overdose?"
Silence.
Everyone knew about it, especially Rachel since the nurses had mentioned it to her when she woke up from her coma. But this wasn't even a testimony anymore. This was a full blown interrogation.
Rachel didn't immediately respond, feeling reluctant to answer. Someone was going to be pissed, and it was probably her parents.
"I don't know." She muttered under her breath not trying to look at anyone, hiding behind her own misery.
The lawyer slammed his fists down on the podium, making Rachel jump back. "Because you can't remember, or because it was so often you're—"
"I don't know! What more do you want me to fucking say?" Rachel yelled back, as the Judge tried to calm both parties down.
She did not want to talk about her drug use, especially under the influence of Mark Jefferson. Chloe held herself back from standing up and creating some problems, though it was growing increasingly difficult. That lawyer had no right to just come onto Rachel like that.
The lawyer then demandingly pressed a button on the remote, starting up the PowerPoint presentation. Rachel was practically seething in anger, not wanting to see whatever shit they had prepared. It felt like a deliberate attack on her.
The screen finally loaded, showing the first image in all of its glory. It was a piece of evidence. Evidence that was presumably missing.
"Do you recognize that image, Rachel? That bottle labeled 'Gamma-Hydroxybutyrate'?" He pointed to the screen that showed a small bottle wrapped in a forensic evidence bag. Oh, she definitely recognized it, as well as Max and Chloe.
Those lying motherfuckers.
Max and Chloe just watched as Rachel remained silent, keeping her mouth shut. It was a good call too, since admitting to using any kind of illegal drugs in a court trial could serve some pretty severe consequences. It was like they were digging her a hole she could never escape from.
The lawyer went to the next slide, now showing an infographic. Words and statistics filled the screen.
"Also known as a date rape drug." He continued with a cutting tone, saying the little word that wasn't so little to Rachel. The four-letter word that started with an 'r'…it was bringing back thoughts and memories and…she choked on her breath, as the lawyer clicked the remote showing yet another picture. There was absolutely no time for her, or anyone, to process what was said, with the images moving so fast it felt like a carnival ride. "Do you remember this picture? It looks like Nathan Prescott was there with you."
The image was of Rachel lying on the ground somewhere in the junkyard, with Nathan behind her. Posing.
Max could clearly remember seeing that picture in Rachel's binder in the darkroom, as it was what had clued her and Chloe into finding where her body was located. It was causing Max to feel on edge just looking at it again, even more so now that she was in fact alive. This photo was different, naturally, since Rachel was dead by the point it was taken in the previous timeline. But it didn't make any logical sense, especially if the only thing that changed was Max showing up, thus altering the current timeline.
Before Rachel had time to say anything, not like she was planning to, the Prescott's lawyer quickly stood up, "Objection! They're guessing at my client's motives!"
The Judge nodded, and let James' lawyer continue. He showed another picture on the screen.
"What about this one?"
His demeanor was increasingly turning shady, almost getting satisfaction from it. Several members of the public cried out after the image displayed itself.
The picture showed Rachel tied up, hands and feet bound together with duct tape, now awake and conscious, sitting in a corner afraid. Afraid of whatever Jefferson was going to do to her. This was well before Max and Chloe arrived.
Max grabbed Chloe's hand, watching her become horrified at the sight. Rachel didn't go into this much detail with her over the past few weeks, and seeing the actual images of what happened was so disturbing, so disgusting, she had to look away. Max, on the other hand, knew about all of them, but still found them hard to look at. Hell, everyone in the room did.
The PowerPoint presentation the lawyer had put together almost felt like some kind of sick auction, selling Rachel's pictures for justice that probably wasn't going to happen. The Prescotts would pay their way out of it anyway. Fuck all of this.
The lawyer turned his attention away from the screen, with a growing smirk appearing on his face, "Rachel, were you coerced into anything by either Mr. Jefferson or Mr. Prescott?"
"I don't remember." Rachel swallowed hard, feeling like she was suffocating. "Not at first anyways."
The lawyer pressed harder. "What about the other instances? Did you consent to these pictures?" He pointed aggressively at the screen, flipping back and forth between each image.
Rachel rapidly shook her head and looked over at Nathan, who didn't seem to focus anywhere the entire time other than on the floor. Seeing him dressed in a prison jumpsuit was probably the most normal sight in that courthouse. It was almost amusing.
She then glanced back up at Chloe, only watching her look more disappointed as the time went on. Rachel definitely didn't blame her, either. She was just as shocked as everyone else. "I've never seen those pictures in my life. I don't remember any of that."
It wasn't a lie.
The entire time Rachel spent with Mark Jefferson, she had absolutely no idea that that was what he was taking pictures of, and it made it even worse to see that she was awake in one of them, despite not remembering a thing. Sure, there would be instances where she would wake up in places she couldn't recognize, but it wasn't like she questioned it. Those drugs were the real deal, and would have been deadly if it wasn't for Max showing up.
"Great." The lawyer nodded, giving the Prescotts a look that could kill. "Your Honor, I'd like to present the next series of evidence the forensic team found in the darkroom, relating to these photographs. May I proceed?"
"You may."
The screen then showed the metal cabinet, housed full of the red binders Max was mentioning during the lunch break. Chloe was still holding tightly onto her hand, as it was probably the only thing holding her back from completely losing it. There were probably close to twenty additional binders, Max counted. How was Jefferson able to get away with all of it?
It was disgusting.
"These are all of the victims Mark Jefferson took advantage of." The lawyer proudly stated, gazing out into the public seating.
Binder upon binders, all names Max didn't even recognize because she was too busy at the time to notice. The room was completely still as the images were being shown, not completely understanding the weight of each one. Most of the people in the courtroom had no idea all of these girls were targeted and killed. No damn idea.
"Twenty girls who never got to experience life past high school."
Another picture, another red binder.
"Twenty girls whose families have been grieving for years, looking for their daughters, waiting for them to come back, and they never will."
Every word was heavy, feeling like it was going to cause the roof to collapse. It was serious, and the gravity of the situation was starting to take hold. Chloe was looking back and forth between the projector and Rachel, unsure of how to feel. Max couldn't help but feel sorry for her; she was the same way in October too. There wasn't an easy way to process this information.
More names.
More pictures.
More destruction.
"Twenty girls, including Mr. Amber's own daughter, were subjected to the abuse, and assault of Mark Jefferson." Everyone in the room was waiting in suspense, listening to every word the lawyer said. "These girls, aside from Rachel, will never be found. Buried and forgotten."
People in the audience had started to cry, and others were held back by the police officers from shock. Nobody knew it was going to look like this. So many victims, so many girls who never got justice for their wrongful death.
The lawyer continued, now flipping to each binder of the individual girls to read each one out loud, "Their names were: Alexis, Ashley, Beverly, Brittany, Carol-Ann, Cassidi…"
The names just kept continuing. One after another.
Max leaned over to Chloe as the lawyer kept reading off the list of names, "So fucking sick." It was all she could say. Chloe just nodded, not able to look away from the screen.
"…Kelly, Lucy, Lula, Lynn, Marissa, Megan, Suzie, Sydney, and Tyra. May their families find peace."
Someone in the public clapped, and another cried out.
"Thank you." The Judge nodded and turned his attention back to James, "Mr. Amber, you may now present your argument." The lawyer sat back down, shutting off the gruesome PowerPoint. Finally, that section of the trial was going to be over. Thank God.
James stood up and brought Rachel back to the table, where Chloe immediately put her arm around her, even if it wasn't really allowed. Neither of them cared at the moment. They were both incredibly tense and exhausted after everything that had just happened, especially given that Rachel was shown such god-awful pictures of herself that she never actually consented to show. Whatever, it was over with anyways.
The trial seemed to be moving at a fast pace now, leaving the prosecution to rush every piece of information and evidence they had to offer. The hours allotted for the trial were beginning to run out, as no one planned for it to take this much time. There was no way anyone could predict how long it would take, not even the jurors. It left everyone continuously stunned by the details, like an obstacle course filled with traps and spikes no matter which way you turned. No time was left to process anything.
"You see," James walked over to the defense side, "Nathan Prescott was merely an accomplice, joining late in Mark Jefferson's murderous plan unknowingly, following his instruction. Of course he would, Nathan is young. He wanted a mentor." He bent down on the floor, trying to get Nathan to look right in his eyes. "But the problem ensues when now nobody in Arcadia Bay can find our main suspect, Mark Jefferson."
Another major bombshell.
James and his entire network of detectives, police officers, and forensic investigators had clearly found major evidence, all the while Max and Chloe and Rachel were all living life, even having a routine game night every Tuesday—ever since it started when Max confessed to her powers. Watching different movies, going on drives around town, and having late morning breakfasts at the Two Whales Diner. The entire time, Mark Jefferson could have gone out, wandering the streets of Arcadia Bay looking for his next victim to kill, and from everyone involved, it was going to be Max's fault.
No fucking way.
Max froze in her seat, starting to feel sick. The entire time she was only aware of the lack of evidence, which was apparently found, and that wasn't as big of a deal. She could handle that. But instead, she had now to deal with Mark Jefferson potentially being alive?
This trial was starting to feel like a rollercoaster, and not the kiddy rides at the fair—the ones in video games that led straight down to hell. Burning flames and all. Everything that was said only seemed to get worse, to the point Max was starting to tense up anytime someone in the room spoke now.
It was supposed to be easy. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Max was breathing heavier, feeling the room start to close in. Her thoughts were slowly taking over, inching their way into her awareness, blocking out any external chatter.
"It has been documented and recorded, in thorough evidence, that he was shot in the back with a handgun by Ms. Caulfield in an act of self defense, through the security cameras we found in your office, Sean."
Nobody said a word. Max was starting to feel lightheaded, not able to catch her breath.
"However, when the police came back to further investigate, the bunker looked like a cleaning maid went through and polished it entirely, removing all evidence from the room. Sean," James looked up at the man, playing into his mind games, "I know you want to protect your name. I can sympathize with you, but we cannot give justice to these girls without the proper knowledge of what happened. Where is Mark Jefferson, Mr. Prescott?"
It doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.
Everything felt hot. Time had completely stopped, with the sense of nothing feeling real starting to appear. The room, the stuffy environment, the people…they all looked fake. The world seemed a thousand miles away from Max. Thoughts sounded like an echo. The chair she was sitting in was the only thing keeping her in place, otherwise, she would have fallen over she was so faint. Max rubbed her finger under her nose, checking for blood—figuring that maybe this was just some nightmare and she would wake up to tell Chloe about it, and maybe share a few laughs at how ridiculous it sounded—but there wasn't any. This was real life, and Max was living in it.
Sean Prescott stood up, facing James directly. "I have no idea, James. I was not involved in the incident. You are aware I can sue you for libel, correct?" The two were at a face off, neither one stopping at attacking further.
I thought I made everything better, and this murderer could still be alive! I–
Something outside of Max's awareness joined her, giving a gentle touch on her shoulder. Chloe was watching her the whole time, making sure she was alright even though she definitely wasn't. She reached across the table to grab the water bottle and unscrewed the plastic cap, offering it to Max. She was breathing so heavily, it was starting to make Chloe feel lightheaded for her.
"You have to breathe, Max. It's okay." She kept trying to offer Max the water but she was too wrapped up in her own head, ruminating.
This entire situation was Max's fault.
Her fault.
She caused this.
James walked around the room, "I am aware of your perceived threats, Mr. Prescott. However, I must ask, if you were not involved in the crime, then why was I shown additional footage of a van at the Sinclair gas station on North Main Avenue—the van that matched the tire prints found outside of your barn, with your son stepping out of said vehicle to call someone on his phone? Permission to play said recording, your Honor?"
"Permission granted."
What do we even do now? He's going to kill me, isn't he? He's going to murder me and…take us all back to the darkroom and…I'll never see Chloe again and…my life will be fucking over and…
"Hey," Chloe shook her, "Look at me, Max. I won't let anything happen to you, do you understand?" Max watched Nathan across the room, making Chloe nudge her back to look at her, only noticing her breathing still rapid, "Shhhh….Breathe, Max."
The recording played on the projector, showing grainy footage from the gas station. The exact van James was mentioning appeared, pulling up to the pump, as well as Nathan, who had gotten out while the attendant filled the tank.
Chloe gently rubbed her back, trying to calm Max while she took some deep breaths under her guidance. Max didn't take her eyes off her, knowing that if she looked anywhere else, the panic attack would start over again. It was the worst one she'd ever had, that was for sure. She actually thought she was going to die. Chloe grabbed the water again, giving it to Max, but her hands were shaking so much she nearly spilled it.
Luckily no one else noticed, or it would have been slightly embarrassing.
Thank God for Chloe Price.
All the while, the screen continued to play the security camera footage. The two were still going at it. "You see, Sean, I gathered the forensic team from Portland to track down this vehicle to your office—which you should recall quite well, since that was where we found your hidden security footage in the storage closet, all shot by cameras supposedly placed in the darkroom. What's your explanation for that?" James was leading the questions in such a way that was impressive. The guy was immensely skilled at his job.
"It was a storm bunker." Angrily, Sean crossed his arms, "The cameras were placed there for security reasons." He didn't want to explain more, but was almost appearing like he didn't know the details of the darkroom. It was strange.
James nodded, knowing that Sean fell right into his trap. "Then explain why the van was parked outside your office. We have footage of the entire journey your son took on Thursday, April 18th."
The security footage replayed again, adding more zoom-ins and details previously missed.
"I–" Sean was hesitating, glancing down at Nathan who was still handcuffed, "I had called him because I saw things were getting out of hand. I wanted to avoid any legal repercussions that may have arisen."
"So you were aware of the illegal activities taking place in your bunker?" Several jurors smirked as they wrote something down, all the while James was growing more confident, pacing around the Prescotts' table, "Are you interfering with the case by hiding Mark Jefferson?"
"Of course not." Sean scoffed.
Nathan was still buried underneath himself, trying to cover his ears but couldn't because of his handcuffs. His father was more than displeased, and the police officer nearby refused to take his eyes off him.
James narrowed his eyes, "That's very comical that you would outwardly lie in a court trial, Sean. The Arcadia Bay Police Department found no evidence, no weapon, and no body in the bunker after we took Mr. Madsen to the station for questioning, as you heard from the testimonies earlier this morning. Drawing from the rumors by the department that some of the cops looked like deliberate fakes, and the fact that you openly admitted to having cameras inside the darkroom, this should be clearly evident to the jury that you and your son were involved."
Another massive blow at the Prescott family. Another hit targeted exactly where James was aiming.
Oh shit. Did Sean Prescott pay off some police officers to cover up the darkroom?
Max was settled down by this point, intently listening to the trial. She was absolutely horrified at how it was all leading back to being her fault, though, and she couldn't let that thought go. Maybe she should've just let David deal with it at the time. Not get involved. Hell, she should've just stayed back in the bathroom with Chloe. No. She shook her head. No way.
James hit the table, staring right at Sean, who was only growing more in rage. "You are blatantly hiding something, and we will not allow it!"
The Prescotts' lawyer stood up, "Objection! Those are rumors, not actual facts."
The Judge waved him off, becoming increasingly annoyed.
"Where is he, Sean?" James wasn't going to give up. He was so close. "What did you do with Mark Jefferson?"
Sean Prescott remained silent as Nathan was starting to become upset, making James immediately notice. If he couldn't get Sean to talk, he would at least have to try with his son.
James crouched down, meeting him at the table, "Nathan, tell us what happened to Mark." His voice was softer, appearing to be convincing. Fatherly.
"He's…" Nathan held back a sob, wiping his eyes, "...dead."
Max furrowed her brow in confusion and glanced at Chloe. She couldn't tell if it was a lie, a coverup, or if it was actually the truth. That whole family was so good at hiding secrets. Almost too good. There had to be more to the story.
"Where is his body?" James was being as patient as he could be, only for Nathan to shake his head in response. "Where is it, Nathan?"
He looked over at his father, who seemed to mouth something back. Something inaudible. That was what seemed to drive James over the edge.
"This is absolutely absurd!" James went back to pacing around, hand covering his face in frustration, "If you claim to be innocent, then explain to us why you would go through so much effort, just to hide a body? What more are you covering up?" He went back to yelling, irritated at the lack of admission from the defense. Their job was supposed to be easy, yet they were making it so difficult for themselves.
The room went still, void of anyone talking. Nobody could see or hear, but Nathan whispered something to his lawyer sitting next to him, now motioning to the Judge. "Your Honor, Nathan would like to testify in front of the court."
Everyone seemed to be on high alert now. Subtle clicks of a camera appeared from the back, prompting the three to look back. The reporters were eating this up, loving every bit of drama this small town courthouse was bringing that afternoon. The eager anticipation of whatever Nathan was going to say was keeping everyone on the edge of their seat. It was uncalled for, and unexpected.
As Nathan sat down to the left of the Judge, he was starting to cry. He was fidgeting with the handcuffs, eyes erratically glancing around the room. "I just wanted to say that…I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. Not Rachel, not Chloe, and not Max." He looked over at the trio, almost filled with regret. His father was furious, shaking his head at every word that came out of Nathan's mouth. He was going to single-handedly ruin the Prescott family name.
However, this speech was vividly reminding Max of the phone call she got from Nathan after she escaped the darkroom, giving a warning that not only was Jefferson coming after her, but that he was going to get killed for fucking everything up. Same words and everything, just in a different environment. Eerie.
"Everybody used me! I didn't mean to give Rachel an overdose," He yelled, arms raised in the air. Rachel glanced away, quickly realizing that Nathan just admitted to almost killing her. She thought the entire time it was Mark Jefferson to blame. Just like Max said. Just like the previous timeline. Oh God.
Nathan continued, "Mr. Jefferson trusted me to do it and…and I fucked up. Sorry." His voice was so weak, so fragile, that each word that was said barely formed a sound. He was either being completely serious, or Nathan Prescott should drive down to Los Angeles that day and become an A-list actor, because his performance was remarkable.
"You administered the drug, Nathan?" The Judge was attentively listening, making small notes on a piece of paper.
"Just one time!" He looked down, humiliated, "I–I swear."
James was still over on the defensive side. He let out a sigh of annoyance. "Nathan, what more do you know?"
"I already told you, I don't know anything!" He waved his hands around upset, despite being constricted to the handcuffs, "I didn't know about all those girls in the binders, I didn't know about any of it, okay?"
"But you knew what Mark Jefferson was doing, didn't you?" James leaned in closer, "Or you wouldn't have drugged my daughter like you were instructed to do!" He harshly pointed at Rachel from across the room, making her flinch. So he could act like he cared about her in front of an audience, but not to her face?
"This is bullshit." Nathan glanced over at his father, now becoming enraged, "My whole family will sue you! You can't use your own daughter as evidence!"
A police officer quickly got closer, standing near Nathan in case he was going to cause any trouble. Now this was the real drama people wanted to see.
James crossed his arms, unamused, "Under the court of law, it is stated that you cannot represent your own children if they are minors. She's almost nineteen, Nathan, everything we are doing is perfectly legal."
There was a moment of silence that washed over the room, but one that was desperately needed. There wasn't much more Nathan could really say or prove. The defense was doing a poor job at providing their evidence, making the trial go a lot smoother than anyone had thought. James was about ready to sit back down at his own side, letting the Judge overtake the direction of the court, until suddenly, Nathan spoke out of nowhere.
"You'll never find Jefferson." It was so quiet, so deceiving, it was almost a whisper.
James immediately turned around. "Oh, I won't? And what leads you to believe that?" He glanced over at his lawyer, then the Judge, all to get no response. He partially believed Nathan was just causing problems to cause them, not really meaning what he was saying.
Nathan laughed slowly, "He's somewhere so locked up and hidden…you'll be dead before you even come close to finding him."
The room became tense.
Sean raised his arms in frustration, about ready to send his own son to jail. There was going to be a serious talk after this, and Nathan would pay for his foolishness. The Prescotts' lawyer watched as Mr. Prescott was furious, vigorously straightening his tie and sitting back down, taking deep breaths. He had more money than everyone in that building combined. They will all pay for this.
"Great," James smiled, "So you're admitting to not only being an accomplice to his crimes, but also tampering with evidence." James looked back over at his lawyer, "I think our job here is done." He brushed his hands together and made his way back over to where the three girls were sitting.
"Chloe, what the fuck?" Max leaned closer, whispering, "What's going on?"
Max was the one in most shock. From every word that was said today not a single person was able to see this coming. Twists and turns in every direction. By this point, she was over it all, but knew deep down that the potential of Mark Jefferson being alive was going to slowly eat away at her as the time went on. She wouldn't tell anyone about it, though. There wasn't the need for any more stress, especially after the trial.
Chloe just shook her head and leaned back in her chair, causing it to squeak. "Justice. The Prescotts are getting fucking justice."
The Judge then slammed the wooden gavel down, calming the incessant talking from the audience. Clearly, everyone was beginning to feel restless. "We have heard enough. Bailiff, please give the jury twenty minutes to deliberate."
The jurors quickly gathered everything they needed, both paperwork and their personal items, and left the room, leaving everyone to talk amongst themselves again. It wasn't going to be a huge surprise to hear the verdict, with most knowing how much of a disadvantage the Prescotts had after being shown all the additional evidence.
"Holy shit—" Chloe stretched out her arms, tired of sitting in that uncomfortable chair all day, "That was hella intense."
The clock that hung above the Judge read 6:15pm. Nearly eleven hours had passed. They were all absolutely exhausted.
"Yeah, how do you think I feel?" Rachel sighed, with a growing annoyance. She wasn't too willing to talk anymore, even more so after her little interrogation in front of everyone—something she was most certainly not ever planning on happening. While she sat upfront earlier, Rachel tried to look into the public seating, slightly hoping to see Sera there. It was a long lost hope, but one she just couldn't ever let go of. She couldn't find her, or at least recognize her in the sea of faces, but the woman was pretty good at hiding.
"I know," Chloe reached over to rub her shoulder, only to feel how tense she was, "We all just need to leave this place and get high or something."
Rachel laughed, knowing damn well that it sounded like a good plan.
Nearly twenty minutes had passed, and the sounds of jackets and purses being moved around only showed how impatient everyone was getting. The conversations were slowing down. The room was getting quieter. It was finally time.
The Judge turned to face the jurors who were now entering the main courtroom. "Will the foreperson of the jury please stand. Have you reached a verdict?"
A younger woman stood up, maybe in her mid-twenties. She must have been on jury duty. "We have, your Honor."
Judge Murphy then turned to the Prescotts, "Will the defendants please stand."
Sean, Nathan, and their lawyer all promptly stood up, anxiously awaiting. The metal handcuffs jingled as Nathan was visibly shaking. He knew very well what was coming.
"As to the charges against Nathan Prescott, your Honor, we find as follows," The young woman glanced down at her paper, speaking void of any emotion. "Attempted Murder: Guilty."
Nathan just looked down, shaking his head. His father said nothing.
"Kidnapping of the First Degree: Guilty."
Everyone was watching as the Prescotts were getting publicly humiliated, plain as day. It was a good sight to see in Arcadia Bay that day. One that nobody would forget. That, and it appearing on national television for the entire country to watch, literally nobody was going to forget.
"Assault and Battery: Guilty."
Another charge. Nathan was fidgeting with his hands even more now.
"Accessory to Attempted Murder: Guilty."
The police were starting to grab onto Nathan, beginning to drag him away. Nobody knew exactly where he was headed, though he was most likely going to prison for a while until his father would pay to release him. There was no way Nathan Prescott was going to serve a full time sentence without someone helping him out.
"Use of illegal drugs and paraphernalia: Guilty."
An unanticipated charge that only seemed to be tacked on for humor, if anything. Good.
The woman sat back down with the other jurors, while the entire defense side was now leaving with the police. They had all clearly heard enough.
Everyone sat on the edge of their seat, anxiously awaiting to stand up. The final verdict seemed rushed, and it was because even the jurors were getting tired of it all. The years for how long Nathan would be sentenced in jail were still undetermined, left for another future trial that would only involve the Prescott family. The good news was that there wasn't a need for Max, Chloe, or Rachel to ever do this again as they already provided testimonies that were documented and recorded.
"Thank you jurors for your service." The Judge slammed the gavel down once more, "Clerk, if you could make the verdict a part of the record? Thank you." He looked out at everyone in the room, now starting to pack their bags to leave, "All rise! The court is now adjourned."