Chapter six

And I have loved you every day since. I will continue to love you, every day, until my very last breath.

Always.

Rick's words calmed her mind as she stared at her reflection in the mirror; she almost didn't recognise the woman staring back at her. Hair done, make up applied, wearing a navy dress and sensible heels that made her look more like a school principal than an accused murderer. But she new better than anyone that murderers don't have just one 'look'.

Haynes had spent the better part of the past two days schooling her on how to behave as a defendant. He took every opportunity he got to remind her that she wasn't a cop in that courtroom anymore - as if she needed the reminder. It wasn't her job to be confident, to be assertive and sure of herself. She was to sit down, shut up, and let him do his job. Listen as each witness speaks, pay attention to the judge and, for the love of God, do not linger on the jury.

"You have a way of looking threatening, even when that's not your intention," he had warned her. "If even one of those jurors feels intimidated by you, it's over."

Most importantly, he had urged her to keep her emotions buried. All the crying and frustrated outbursts during their many meetings had never been so much as acknowledged by Haynes, until now. He'd kept a record, though, just to prove his point. "You cried twenty-seven times, told me to 'go to hell' twice and made some sort of frustrated gesture - grunting, rolling your eyes, shaking your head, arguing with me - a total of seventy-eight times. That cannot happen when we are in that courtroom. Understood?"

It had taken all of her strength to not roll her eyes in response. She simply took a deep breath and smiled, then nodded her confirmation.

But how was she supposed to not react when a slew of professional witnesses were going to sit before her (and a courtroom full of people) and accuse her of murder? How was she supposed to keep her cool when her fate rested on the judgement of twelve strangers?

She used to have such faith in the justice system.

Now, faith seemed so stupid.

And I have loved you every day since. I will continue to love you, every day, until my very last breath.

Always.

She wouldn't give up, though. She would sit down, shut up, and let Haynes do his job. She would bite her tongue and grit her teeth and allow the prosecution's star witness, Mr Flynn, spread his lies. Haynes would tear his story apart. He had to.

"Are you ready?" Lartius asked, pulling Beckett from her thoughts.

He had requested to escort her to the courthouse during her trial. He never told her why; she never asked. A small voice in the back of her mind told her his apparent 'soft spot' for her was suspicious, that it couldn't lead to anything good. Another voice, obviously a louder voice, told her that it was best to not know. Some days his smiling face was the only friendliness she received, she wasn't sure she was strong enough to risk losing that if it turned out he was up to something.

You know, ignorance is bliss and all that.

She gave herself another once-over in the mirror and sighed. The dress didn't fit her quite as well as it used to, but it would do.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

Lartius removed her cuffs the moment they were in the transfer van.

"You're supposed to keep them on," she said quietly, unsure if the guard was violating protocol intentionally or not.

"It is apparently unfair to the defendant to be seen in a cuffs and a jumpsuit right before their trial," he said nonchalantly. "Something about bias—if you look like a criminal, you're less likely to get a fair shot or whatever."

"Yes, but you're not supposed to uncuff me until we're at the courthouse."

Lartius shrugged, his gaze fixed on the driver ahead. "Small favours. I won't say anything if you don't."

A small voice in her mind warned her to be cautious, told her that maybe she should be questioning what she would have to do in return for all these small favours, as he called them. Because she knew that eventually he would want something in return, a price she might not be willing to pay. Another voice, however - the voice that favoured survival over her moral compass - urged her to shut up and be grateful for these mercies. There was no guarantee that they would last.

"Thank you," she murmured, rubbing at the raw skin on her wrists where the cuffs had left angry red marks.

Outside the courthouse was chaotic. Reporters and their cameramen lined the paths, waiting for their perfect shot of the disgraced NYPD Captain as she arrived for her trial.

"Just keep your head down," Lartius instructed as he looked out the window, scowling at the awaiting mob. "Don't say a word to anyone, you understand?"

Beckett nodded, barely able to hear him over the cacophony of shouts and camera flashes.

"Haynes is just inside." he added before disappearing to open her door. His hand reached out, warm and steady, pulling her from the van. "I got you."

The moment her feet hit the ground, the world exploded in flashes of white light. The press was relentless, their calls of her name echoing from every direction. The weight of their attention pressed down on her, but Lartius's guiding hand at her back kept her from buckling under the pressure. He moved with purpose, cutting through the madness, leading her to the relative safety of the courthouse.

The doors swung open, and they entered the marble-floored foyer, where silence replaced the chaos. The air was thick with a kind of reverence, the quiet conversations in the distance muffled as if the space itself swallowed sound. The contrast to the riotous scene outside was staggering, and with every step, Beckett felt a strange kind of dislocation—as though the world she had just left belonged to someone else. A different life.

Her heels clicked against the marble, each sound a solitary echo in the stillness. For a moment, everything slowed, and she could almost forget the storm she had just walked through, the battle that was waiting for her beyond these walls. Almost.

But the stillness of the foyer was quickly shattered by the thunderous pounding of her heart when Beckett followed Lartius down a corridor and saw Haynes talking to Alexis. And in Alexis's arms, blissfully unaware of the turmoil surrounding him, was Theo.

Beckett's legs moved faster, propelling her toward them. She had begged Alexis not to bring Theo—wanted him as far away from the chaos as possible—but in this moment, she couldn't have been happier to see them both.

Without thinking, she threw her arms around Alexis and Theo, holding them close, trying to steady her racing pulse. Her emotions were threatening to spill over, but she fought to keep them in check.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

She wasn't sure she cared about the answer. Her son was in her arms. Nothing else seemed to matter.

Alexis gently pulled away, passing Theo to Beckett in one smooth motion. "Michael mentioned there was a tiny window of time—between eight-fifteen and eight-thirty—when we might catch you before you went in," she explained, her smile soft but knowing.

Beckett glanced at Haynes. He might be ruthless in the courtroom, and she'd grown frustrated with him on more than one occasion these past months, but seeing this now only reinforced her belief that he wasn't as cold as he seemed.

"We were headed to the library anyway," Alexis continued, "so it worked out."

"You take Theo to the library?" Beckett asked, her voice thick with surprise and warmth.

"They have a little puppet theatre," Alexis replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "Today, they're doing Little Red Riding Hood. I thought he might enjoy it."

Beckett's heart swelled with gratitude. She barely felt the familiar pang of regret that usually came with these moments—the ache that it couldn't be her making those memories with Theo.

She pulled her boy closer, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Lartius's voice broke through the moment, his tone apologetic as he approached. "But—"

"It's okay," Beckett said, cutting him off. She kissed Theo once more, savouring the moment before passing him back to Alexis. "I love you, Little Bear," she whispered, and then turned to Alexis. "Thank you. For everything."

Alexis wrapped her free arm around Beckett, pulling her into a brief, tight hug.

"Gram and Jim will be here for you," Alexis reassured her. "And Theo and I will be close by. If you change your mind about him being here—"

"No," Beckett interrupted gently, her voice firm. "I appreciate it... but no. I can't."

"I understand," Alexis said softly. "Just keep it in mind."

Beckett nodded, her throat tight. "Thank you."

With one last lingering glance, Alexis turned and walked down the hallway. Beckett watched them go, her heart aching in a way it hadn't before, as though the space between them had already grown too wide.

Lartius, standing a few feet behind her, shifted his weight, his voice low but firm. "You can't run off like that."

Beckett blinked, the words pulling her back to reality. "I'm sorry," she replied, her breath uneven as her eyes followed Alexis and Theo until they disappeared from view. The stillness that had settled in her chest was replaced by a quiet, heavy emptiness - an ache that she knew would linger long after they were gone. But there was no time for regret. Not now. "I just—"

"I get it," the guard assured her, his voice softer now, but still edged with authority. "I do. But, if someone had seen you get away from me like that-" He sighed, heavily. "I can't afford to have the warden on my ass for not doing my job properly. I can't have him constantly watching over my shoulder."

That quiet, warning voice in Kate's mind rioted, sounded the alarm bells of her subconscious. But she didn't say anything. Ignorance is bliss.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Beckett paced back and forth in the cramped holding room at the back of the courthouse, her steps growing more agitated with each pass.

She was supposed to have been called in over an hour ago. Haynes had been summoned to chambers around the same time and she hadn't seen him since. Her nerves were a tangled mess, her stomach churning.

"What the hell is taking so long?" she voiced aloud, her words sharp with frustration.

Lartius watched her intently, as if he was worried she might actually lose it at any given moment. "I'm sure everything's fine. There are a number of reasons why this happens."

Beckett paused mid-step, trying to restrain herself. She swallowed hard, the urge to glare at him almost unbearable. "I know," she replied, her voice clipped.

The door opened just then, and Haynes walked back into the room, his expression tight.

"What's going on?" Beckett asked, almost breathless.

Haynes let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "We're going to have to swear in several new jurors," he explained, his tone heavy.

Beckett's shoulders slumped in sync with her mood. She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose before collapsing into a nearby chair.

"Why?" Lartius asked, his curiosity piqued.

Haynes paused, glancing at the floor as if considering his next words carefully. "It turns out one of the jurors is a big fan of your husband's," he said, his voice edged with frustration. "She and two others were overheard talking about Heat Wave."

Beckett's heart skipped a beat. Her head snapped up, and her pulse quickened, a sharp pang of frustration twisting in her gut. "Heat Wave?" she echoed, disbelief lacing her words. "Are you telling me this whole thing is because of Heat Wave?"

Haynes gave a grim nod, his jaw tightening. "It's a delay, but we can manage it."

Beckett stared at Haynes, her mind racing. This delay was a blow to her already fragile nerves - this sure didn't feel manageable. She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair, but the storm inside her refused to calm. She nodded, but it was more out of obligation than reassurance.

"We can manage it," she echoed, hoping the words would ring true.