"Miss Latham, how did you know the defendant?" The defense attorney's slick, oily voice echoed in the courtroom. I gripped the stand. I had to keep my cool. I had to make him pay and it wouldn't work if I freaked out.
"We went to the same free running gym," I said flatly.
"Did you ever speak to the defendant?"
"No."
"Did Cynthia Latham ever speak to the defendant?"
"No." I wanted so badly to say that he used to talk to Cindy even though she never talked back but the prosecutor had told me over and over to answer the question that was asked, nothing more, and that he'd be able to redirect later.
The lawyer's smile made me want to punch him. "No further questions, Your Honor."
"Prosecutor, your witness," the judge instructed.
"Thank you, Your Honor." He turned to me. "Miss Latham, how often did you see Mr. Harrison at the gym?"
"The last month before Cind—Cynthia…died…he was there every time I was." I couldn't call her Cindy here. Her name on the case file was Cynthia. Besides, I didn't want that greasy lawyer desecrating her nickname.
"How often were you at the gym with the deceased?"
"Every day for a few hours after school and almost all day on the weekends," I said calmly. I was following the prosecutor's directions exactly. The plan was going to work.
"Why were the two of you at the gym so frequently?"
"Cynthia was training for a parkour competition where she was a semi-finalist. I accompanied her."
"I see. So Cynthia Latham was at the gym for several hours every day training for an upcoming event and Liam Harrison happened to be there at all of the same times?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever see Mr. Harrison engage in training at the gym?"
"No. He stood to the side, watching other athletes."
"So you're saying Mr. Harrison spent several hours at the gym every day simply watching people?"
"Yes."
"How often did Mr. Harrison approach the deceased?"
Here was my chance to prove what he did. I couldn't screw it up! "Every day at the end of Cynthia's training session. He always asked her questions and she always ignored him. Then he would follow us out of the gym."
"Did Mr. Harrison ever try to follow the two of you after leaving the gym?"
"Yes. Once he followed us for several blocks before we noticed him. After we turned and saw him, he headed in the opposite direction."
"Thank you Miss Latham, no further questions."
Blood roared in my ears. I did it. I didn't cry. I didn't collapse. I didn't try to break anything or hurt myself. I didn't even pay attention to the closing statements or the worried look the prosecutor shot me after the defense lawyer had his turn. I had done it.
He was going to jail. Cindy was avenged. It didn't bring her back, but it brought some degree of satisfaction.
The deliberation ended far quicker than I'd thought it would. The bailiff brought the news to the judge, who did not look happy. What did that mean? "The jury has found the defendant…not guilty."
"WHAT?!" I shrieked, jumping out of my seat.
"Miss Latham, sit down," the prosecutor hissed. "Don't cause any trouble for yourself. We did our job. They made their choice."
No. No. They couldn't do this. They couldn't let him go free. That monster murdered my sister. My sister, who had a bright future ahead of her. My sister, who only ever wanted to be free was dead while her killer got to be free. I wouldn't stand for it. I couldn't. Though I felt an unearthly scream building up in my chest, I waited until I was in an alley behind the courthouse before I let my anguish out.