Page 3 of As the Rain Falls
Hesitation is a powerful tool, but used at the wrong time just means you’re lying. I don’t want the jury to fall for my half-truths. I want them to like me enough to never even consider the possibility of half-lies.
I want them to go home to their parents and children thinking about this poor, wide-eyed girl who had to testify against her brother, marveling at how brave she must be. I need them to see my weakness and pity me.
Why?
I could go on and on about this, but the truth of the matter is actually quite simple: because as much as we’d like to think otherwise, nobody ever really likes a strong victim.
Pity is a lot easier for them to feel than compassion or empathy. I’d have to be on their level for them to care that much, and I’m not. I’m not like them. I’m a victim, which means that I must be attached to a problem.
“How close?”
“We’re all great friends, sir.”
You see?
This is how you bend the story to your favor. The jury doesn’t need to know that I fell asleep on the phone with him last night.
“How close?” is a weak question. He never asked me if Beckett was ever, or still is, my boyfriend. I think a good lawyer would press some more, ask a follow-up question or two, force me to admit that we’ve been together for almost a year now. But this one doesn’t.
“Have you ever been romantically involved with Beckett?”
Ah, there it is.
I spare Mr. Yun a glance, watching him write something down before sliding a piece of paper to Beckett. Nathaniel’s lawyer takes a step forward towards me and I tilt my head slightly, drifting my attention back to him.
“What do you mean?”
He narrows his eyes, giving me an exasperated look before asking,“Have you ever dated him?”
I rest my hands over the stand, keeping them visible at all times. My breath comes out evenly, even as I raise an eyebrow, feigning curiosity.
“Dated him? Like, are you asking if I’ve ever gone out to the movies with Beckett?”
“Yes.”
My eyes flicker towards the jury. I raise an eyebrow, faking confusion now.
“I go to the movies with a lot of people. Why does it matter?”
I hear the judge shift in her seat.
She looks young, at least for this kind of career. Her lips are always tinted with some kind of red lip gloss that seems to have a shiny finish. I spent three hours looking for something similar after I got home from the first hearing two days ago.
“Ms. Rivera, please answer the question,” she says.
I turn to my brother’s lawyer.
“I’m sorry. What was the question again?”
His jaw tightens.I am definitely pissing him off.
“Are you in a relationship with him?”
I lean back for a second, pretending to be weighing my response.
“I’m sure you already have an answer in mind.” I shake my head, letting the silence stretch long enough to be uncomfortable. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“You are in a relationship with Beckett Evans, and this is why you’re here defending him today.”
