Page 38 of The Better Sister

And then, boom, the prosecutor said it. “The same friend who said that Ethan was out of his presence for an hour the night of the murder told police that when he picked Ethan up at Main Beach afterward, he was carrying a backpack that he hadn’t had with him earlier in the night. Although he did not see what was inside the backpack, when the police searched the defendant’s New York City bedroom yesterday, they found an empty backpack, and they found items matching the three supposedly stolen items—including the very distinctive sneakers—on the top shelf of his bedroom closet, covered by a blanket.”

The judge removed his reading glasses and looked directly at Olivia, waiting for an explanation that didn’t come quickly enough.

“There is an explanation, Your Honor. The defendant’s parents have two residences.”

“So you’re saying that he owned two pairs of those shoes?”

“Your Honor, a bail hearing should not be a mechanism for the government to force my client to give testimony or to trick me into previewing my entire case for them. What matters here, Your Honor, is that there is no reason why Ethan needs to be held pending trial, where he will be vindicated. He can be released, on bail if you so require. He has no prior criminal history and will remain with his stepmother—whose reputation is beyond measure. Any remote concerns you might have could be addressed with electronic monitoring.”

The prosecutor jumped in without an invitation. “With all due respect to Ms. Randall, that’s just offensive. Would any other defendant—who didn’t have two residences, designer tennis shoes, and impeccably credentialed parents—have any chance of being released on bail in a murder case? I have only given you a few pieces from the mountain of evidence we have against this defendant, because we fear that he might tamper with potential witnesses, as when he tried to rope a friend into a false cover story. But as far as his stepmother being an appropriate safeguard for him, I will add this. She told the police multiple times that the family rarely used their home security system, but records from the alarm company show that the system was used regularly as members of the family moved in and out of the house. And on the night of the murder, it was armed shortly after a car service dropped Adam Macintosh at the home and was subsequently disarmed—in our view, by the defendant. But the important point is that we believe Ms. Taylor—despite her, quote, ‘reputation beyond measure’—is motivated to protect her stepson. Quite understandably,” she added as an afterthought.

I noticed the judge glance quickly in my direction. I could feel him reassessing whatever it was he thought he had known about me.

“Well, we don’t need to get into any of that,” he said. Despite his conciliatory tone of voice, a burn building in my throat and stomach forewarned of what was coming next. “But your point about equal treatment is well taken. You’ve shown that the case has merit. The consequences of a conviction for this young man would be quite severe. I don’t want a situation where we release him, only to find out he’s left for the Swiss Alps on a private jet.”

When a snicker erupted behind us, I thought Nicky was going to break my hand. If she had eyes in the back of her head, that person would have gotten knocked to the floor after court.

“The defendant is remanded without bail.”

I could still hear the judge’s words ringing in my ears when we walked out of the courtroom. The press was waiting for us and started yelling questions the moment they saw me emerge into the hallway.Is it true you lied to the police? Do you think Ethan killed your husband?And some of the questions were obviously about Nicky.Is that your sister? Are you his actual mother?

Olivia shuffled us through the crowd and down the hall to an unused jury room she had arranged for just this purpose. Once the door was closed, Nicky and I were talking at once.How do we appeal? When will Ethan get home? What if we offer to hire private security to watch Ethan around the clock?

Olivia tried to calm us down by telling us that Ethan would be housed with other juveniles, not in county jail, and that this was only the beginning of the process.

Nicky slapped the table. Hard. “Stop fucking saying that. It’s the beginning of a shit show, but it’s the end of everything that was good for him. The only question is how bad it’s going to be from now on.”

Olivia took a deep breath and nodded. “Fair enough. I just wanted you to know how many people do get cases dismissed prior to trial. Or get acquitted. Or reach some agreement that involves far less serious charges. You haven’t lost him. You’re not going to lose him.”

I was still trying to recover from what I’d heard in the courtroom. “I don’t understand. Why would he take those things from the house?”

“I’m sorry, but I have attorney-client privilege with Ethan, not you.”

“So he told you why he had those things in his closet?”

She pressed her lips together. “What if, hypothetically, he just got confused. Maybe in the chaos of carrying items back and forth between your two houses, it’s hard to keep track of what gets left where. And maybe you were also both still in shock when the police asked you to do the walk-through so soon after Adam died.”

“So he said he was confused? But then why didn’t he have his backpack with him the first half of the night with Kevin?”

“It’s not for us to explain their evidence, or even to take it at face value. You have no idea how much pressure they put on his friend to get him to say what they wanted.”

But Olivia didn’t know what I knew about the backpack being empty that first night back in the city. And the police had discovered the items on the top shelf of his closet. It didn’t take camera footage to conclude that Ethan had removed the things from his bag and put them there. No jury in the world would buy some story about his being in shock while he did it. And I knew for a fact that Ethan never put anything away.

When Adam and I decided to get married, I swore to myself that I would never treat Ethan as anything less than my own son. I researched the school districts. I went to the doctors’ appointments. I met with the teachers. I did “all the things,” as Adam liked to say. When Ethan had a problem, I was the one to solve it, because I was good at that. Now he was in desperate need of help, and I felt completely powerless.

“Oh my god,whyare we having this conversation right now?” Beside me, Nicky was still standing, her breath fast and heavy. “There is nowayEthan did this. We have got to get him out. Like, today.Now!Those so-called kids he’ll be held with? You can’t tell me they’re going to be sweet, soft kids like Ethan. Let me talk to the judge. I’ll do anything to get my kid home.”

Olivia nodded calmly as she allowed Nicky to rage. When she finally spoke, her voice was sympathetic but calm. “That’s not going to happen, Nicky. The detention decision has been made. He will not be held with any adults during any stage of the process.”

“He’s sixteen years old, Olivia. I’m not a lawyer, but you can’t expect me to believe that New York puts a sixteen-year-old in the same place as some little kid who went on a shoplifting spree.”

Olivia pursed her lips and shook her head. “No. He’ll be in a special facility for older teenagers. The official term is an ‘adolescent offender.’”

“Okay, so a bunch of hard-ass criminals and sociopaths. There has to be a way to get him out of there.”

I was as terrified for Ethan as Nicky was, but I was desperately trying to contain my emotions and process the evidence the prosecution had claimed to have. “Do you have that picture? The one they showed the judge?”

Olivia looked at both of us with sympathy. Two sisters: one bouncing off the walls with indignation, the other trying to pull a Sherlock Holmes and magically solve the case with her powers of observation. “Don’t do this to yourselves. You two are his only family. That’s your job right now, and it’s not going to be easy. But let me do mine.”

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