Page 70 of Pretty Cruel Love

I don’t know why the hell she’s here.

But I can feel it—how she’s going to make this about herself. She’ll cry for the cameras. Cross her legs just right. Say she “had no idea her daughter was capable of such things.”

Then later, when the lights go off, she’ll remind me that it’s all my fault she lost her favorite stylist.

All my skills in acting and art? They came from her.

She’s the best actress I’ve ever known.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Chevy.”

My thoughts snap into place. I rise—straining against the ankle shackle—along with everyone else.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” the judge says, putting on his reading glasses. “It’s my understanding that the defense is requesting more time to prepare for trial?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” my lawyer says.

“I don’t see anything new in your latest motion,” the judge replies. “So on what grounds should I grant you more time?”

My lawyer looks at me. Then back at the bench.

“My apologies, Your Honor,” he says. “There’s been a huge misunderstanding on our side. We’re ready to proceed with the trial.”

“I’m very happy to hear that.” Judge Chevy lifts his gavel. “The trial will proceed next week as scheduled. Best of luck to you, Miss Pretty.”

Like it’s a raffle.

Like the prize isn’t my life.

I came here hoping to be heard.

I should’ve known better.

This place was never built for girls like me.

32

DR. WEISS

Night Eleven

The sky outside is heavy and gray, weeping in slow, steady sheets. The storm mirrors the energy in the room—tense, exhausted, quiet.

As my team pores over the data from the first session, I skim the next round of questions. Then my phone buzzes in my pocket.

“Yes?” I answer without checking the screen.

“We’re going to allow the guards to transition to a shift change early,” he says. “They’re heading to the bunker at the bottom of the hill, and we’ll let you know when the new guards arrive to take their place.”

“Why?” I glance outside. “Is something wrong?”

“Just following our typical procedure when severe weather is on the horizon.”

I blink, remembering the thunderstorm from a few nights ago. “Wasn’t there severe weather a few days ago?”

“Not a flash flood warning with a potential tornado as well, sir. No.”

“I see.” I pick up the remote and turn on the local news.

---