Page 97 of The Maid

I paused and waited for Charlotte to catch up. It didn’t take her long.

“A mirror,” she said. “And what was reflected in it?”

“First, myself, my terrified face staring back at me. Then behind me, to my left, in the shadowy corner by Giselle’s armoire was…a person.”

My eyes locked with Charlotte’s. It was as though her mind were an intricate machine, reading me, deliberating on how to proceed.

“And…was this person holding anything?” she asked.

“A pillow.”

Murmurs traveled through the crowded courtroom. The judge called for order.

“Molly, is the person you saw standing in that dark corner present in this courtroom today?”

“I’m afraid I would not be comfortable saying,” I said.

“Because you don’t know?”

“Because at that precise moment, when I turned from the mirror toget a direct look at the figure in the dark corner, I fainted. And when I woke up, the person wasn’t there anymore.”

Charlotte nodded slowly. She took her time. “Of course,” she said. “You have a history of fainting spells, don’t you, Molly? Detective Stark testified that you fainted once at your front door upon arrest and once at the station, is that correct?”

“Yes. I faint when under extreme duress. And I most certainly was under extreme duress upon wrongful arrest. I was also under extreme duress when I looked into that mirror and realized I wasn’t alone in that hotel room.”

Charlotte began to pace in front of the stand. She stopped directly in front of me. “What happened when you came to?” she asked.

“When I regained consciousness, I called Reception for the second time. But there was no one in the room at that point. Just me. Well, me and the corpse of Mr. Black,” I said.

“Is it possible, Molly—I’m not saying itwas—but is it possible that the person in that dark corner was Rodney Stiles?”

Rodney’s lawyer jumped to his feet. “Objection. Leading the witness,” he said.

“Sustained,” the judge replied. “Counsel, do you wish to rephrase your question?”

Charlotte paused for a moment, though I doubt it was because she was thinking. I took that time to study Rodney. His lawyer was leaning forward, whispering something in his ear. I wondered what I was being called this time, not that it mattered. Rodney was wearing what appeared to be a very expensive suit. I used to think he was so handsome, but as I looked at him in that moment, I couldn’t imagine what I’d ever seen in him.

After a long interval, Charlotte finally said, “No further questions, Your Honor.” She turned to me. “Thank you, Molly,” she said.

For a moment I thought it was over, but then I remembered we were only halfway through. Rodney’s lawyer sauntered toward me, stopping right in front of me and staring me down. It did little to unnerve me. I’m used to such looks. The world had prepared me well.

I can’t recall every word that was said, but I do remember treading the same old ground, telling the same story the same way every time I was asked. I didn’t trip up even once because it’s easy to tell the truth when you know what it is and what it isn’t, and when you’ve drawn your own line in the sand. There was just one moment during cross-examination when Rodney’s lawyer drilled into me with particular vigor.

“Molly, there’s something I still don’t understand about your story. You were brought to the police station several times. You were given ample opportunity to tell Detective Stark about the figure in the corner of the hotel suite that day. Doing so might have even exonerated you. And yet, time after time, you never mentioned seeing someone in that room. You never said a word about that. And if your lawyer’s behavior means anything, it sure seems like she didn’t know until today either. Now, why is that, Molly? Is that because no one was actually there? Is it because you’re protecting someone else, or is it because when you looked in that mirror, all you saw was your own guilty face reflected back at you?”

“Objection. Badgering. Of the very worst kind,” Charlotte said.

“Sustained, minus the last bit,” said the judge.

The whispers fluttered through the courtroom.

“I’ll rephrase my question,” Rodney’s lawyer said. “Did youlieto Detective Stark when you first told her about what you saw in that hotel room?”

“I did not lie,” I say. “On the contrary. You’ve all read the transcripts. Perhaps you’ve even watched the video of my testimony on the very first day I was interrogated at that filthy police station. One of the first things I said to Detective Stark, in no uncertain terms, was that when I announced my arrival in the suite, I thought someone was there with me. I asked her specifically to write that detail down.”

“But the detective obviously assumed you meant Mr. Black.”

“And that’s why assumptions are dangerous,” I said.

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