Page 67 of Pretty Cruel Love

“Yes.”

The lights dim, and his face disappears, leaving me shrouded in darkness all over again.

“Robin will lead with questions,” his voice soothes me, “but allow me to ask a few off-the-record ones to make sure the system is functioning.”

I nod.

“What’s your favorite book?”

The Count of Monte Cristo.

“When’s your birthday?”

Halloween.

“Do you really have a boyfriend?” He’s been holding onto that one since the Vanderbilt guy asked me days ago.

“Yes and no.”

“It can’t be both.”

“It’s complicated.”

“I think she’s ready,” he says. “Relax…”

The room falls into eerie silence, and I start to drift—until:

“Hello, Sadie.” Robin’s voice echoes through the dark. “Do you feel any remorse for killing Mr. Sorenson?”

“I didn’t kill him.”

“But do you feel remorse?”

“Not really.”

“Your new lawyer has filed appellate papers with the court. There’s a chance you may get a new trial. Do you think you deserve one?”

“I deserve to be free.”

“If Jonathan Baylor really raped you?—”

“He did.”

“Yes, well… did you ever tell your lawyer that?”

Silence.

“Sadie?”

Hot tears slide down my cheeks.

“Would you like to come back to this question?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very well, then…”

She drills question after question, probing deeper, but she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. It’s not until the lights rise slightly that I catch a glimpse of her exasperated expression.

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