Page 70 of Whispers on the Water

I was quiet. Still, no decision had been made about where I would end up after the trial. “Don’t you think it’s a little presumptuous to pick a place to live? We don’t even know if I’ll go to jail.”

With a grin on her lips, Tilly shook her head. “No. I think it’s smart to have a plan.”

Reaching over, I turn the light off again and turn to face Tilly. “I plan on figuring it out when the trial is over.”

Tilly didn’t respond or move to leave, but I wasn’t about to complain. Having my friend care for me so much was a huge support. I sigh but let my eyes close. When Tilly was gone, I was going to feel a huge loss, like having a limb cut off. But I know it’s time. Tilly had given up more than enough of her life for me already.

Chapter forty-two

Sam

Two Weeks Later

Itake a deep breath as I sit in the courtroom, my nerves frayed in the charged air. Sneaking a glance at Joshua, her sister’s husband, I give him a nod. His presence is a small comfort in the overwhelming setting. The courtroom, devoid of a jury, still feels imposing with how quiet everyone is.

“Relax, Sam. It’s just a meeting to present the new evidence and discuss dropping the charges,” Joshua whispers reassuringly. But my anxiety is hard to quell; after all, my future is on the line. Over the last few weeks, I’ve been preparing for the trial in more ways than one. First with the interviews and then with trying to picture my life behind bars. At most, I’ve managed a few panic attacks, but at least I am prepared for what is coming.

The judge, a severe-looking woman with a reputation for fairness, enters and commands the room with her authoritative presence. “This hearing is now in session. Please be seated,” she says, opening her papers to begin.

“The case of the State versus Elaine Samantha Archibald Williams. Ms. Williams, you’re first. Please approach the witness stand,” the judge announces.

As I rise, my heart rate doubles. But Joshua’s calm voice follows me. “Remember, clear and honest answers, Sam. You’re ready for this.” He gives me a quick wink and despite everything, I do find breathing easier.

At the witness stand, I stand behind the regal dark wood. After swearing in, I take a seat. Every eye was focused on her, the courtroom completely silent. Smoothing down my skirt, I breathe in a few slow breaths. Thankfully, Penny and Tilly (via video call from Costa Rica) helped me pick out my clothes. It’s a gray skirt and white blouse. Both are somewhat form-fitting but not scandalously so. Greg gave it his stamp of approval, saying I looked professional and innocent.

Some reporters toward the rear appeared to be leaning in, eager to listen to the tale straight from me. A few of them were quietly murmuring into their recorders, but thankfully, cameras were not permitted by the judge. Taking a deep breath, I placed my hands on my thighs and gazed downwards.

Joshua approaches the witness stand, giving me a small smile. He’s a good man, both patient with his kids and me. I’m very glad he’s on my side. Penny was right; the job doesn’t make the man. Josh is about as opposite from Kevin as water is from sand. “Ms. Williams, for the record, you prefer to be called Sam; is that correct?” As he speaks it, the court recorder is typing away; I stare at her flying fingers for a moment before swallowing. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Sam, I want to jump right into the night in question. Can you just walk us through what happened on April 5th, 2014?”

I knew this was going to be his first question and nod. My voice is softer than I’d like as I begin to recount the harrowing night that changed my whole life. The longer I speak, the steadier my words become, but I know my eyes betray the trauma. Much as I wish I could hide everything, it’s too much to ask of my nervous body.

I start with Kevin coming home drunk, being demanding and violent. When I get to the part about him starting his tirade, my tone becomes robotic. I hear it happening but can’t stop it. If I let the emotion out now, I won’t be able to rein it back in. Slowly, I describe the beating and, finally, the moment when he pulled out my gun. “I didn’t want him to die... I just wanted it to stop,” I whisper, being intentionally vague about pulling the trigger.

But to my surprise, he doesn’t ask any more questions about the actual shooting.

He only nods. “That’s completely understandable Sam. What did you do once you realized he was dead?”

Continuing my story, careful not to include Penny’s involvement, I start recounting my panicked running, adding in the small lie about stealing my sister’s passport and my eventual escape to Costa Rica. In reality, Penny had offered the item and encouraged me to leave.

“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” he asks, his brows low.

“No.”

Nodding again, he looks at the judge. “No further questions.”

The judge turns a page and then looks over to the other bench. “Mr. Jenkins?”

The prosecuting lawyer rises to his feet in a dark, well-tailored suit, scrutinizing my face. Without wasting any time, he delves right into my past. Trying to get me to discuss my ideas of running away and building more of a background on my relationship with my abusive husband. Each question seemed designed to cast doubt on me in general. Josh had told me to expect it, but being the center of attention while I’m called a liar is tough.

“Your honor, I’d like to introduce Exhibit A, a copy of the federal application for a pistol. Did you purchase a gun, two weeks prior to the murder?” He went to his bench and came back with a copy of a faded yellowing paper enclosed in a plastic bag.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Why does anyone? It was for protection.”

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