June's POV
I came home from school, immediately dropping my bag by the door and kicking off my shoes. My body felt like it weighed twice as much as it had that morning. It had been two days since Samantha and I went through the jury selection process, and ever since, the looming possibility of getting picked for the trial had gnawed at me, a constant reminder that my life might be about to get a lot more complicated.
I hoped we wouldn't get chosen, that we could go back to our normal lives, free from courtroom drama. But as soon as I stepped into the living room, I spotted it—an official-looking envelope sitting on the table. Samantha was already there, lounging on the couch, flipping through her phone. She glanced up when she saw me, flashing a grin and holding up an identical envelope. "Looks like we're in," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and dread.
She wiggled the envelope for emphasis, like it was some sort of game.I sighed, the heavy feeling in my stomach sinking even lower. "We got picked?" "Yup," she replied, popping the 'p.' "And get this—we're on a murder case. Some guy named Aiden Graham. He's already been found guilty of killing a girl they found in his house." She tossed her envelope onto the table like it was no big deal. A murder case. My heart skipped a beat. I wasn't expecting that. I dropped down next to her on the couch.
"Murder?" Samantha nodded, too casually for my liking. "Yep. They caught him while he was trying to run. Pretty clear-cut case, from what I've read. But still, murder... kinda intense, right?" Intense didn't even begin to cover it.
My mind spun with images of courtrooms, lawyers, and the victim's family. This wasn't just some petty theft or minor offense; this was a serious, life-altering trial. And I'd be part of deciding someone's future. The thought made my stomach twist uncomfortably. How could I balance this with everything else going on? School, the bakery, my mom..."I don't have time for this," I muttered, rubbing my temples.
"There's too much happening. I can't just stop everything for jury duty." Samantha nudged me with her elbow, trying to snap me out of it."Hey, we'll get through it. Plus, it's not like we're guaranteed to sit through the whole trial. We still have to go through the trial prep and listen to opening statements. And who knows, we might still get dismissed." I wished I could believe her, but the weight of the envelope on the table felt like a promise that things were only going to get more complicated. I glanced at it again, seeing the case number and details printed at the top. Aiden Graham. The name sounded cold, detached. How could someone with such a simple, unremarkable name be responsible for something so horrifying? I couldn't shake the unease creeping up my spine.
Before I could voice the growing anxiety in my chest, my phone buzzed on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with Mom's name. I hesitated. Guilt settled in as I realized I hadn't even checked in with her over the past couple of days, too wrapped up in everything else to stop by the bakery.
I was ashamed of how much I'd been avoiding it since the accident. I sighed and answered the call, doing my best to sound upbeat. "Hey, Mom."
"Hey, sweetheart!" Her voice was warm as always, but there was a hint of excitement I hadn't heard in a while. "I've got some good news. The sign's been fixed." It took me a second to remember what she was talking about. "The sign?" "The one Michael ran into," she clarified, her tone light despite everything. "It's all fixed, just like it was before. They came this morning."I sat up straighter. "Already?" I hadn't expected it to be done so quickly. Maybe I'd assumed it'd take longer because I hadn't been there to check in or help."Yes! This morning. I have to admit, I didn't expect it so soon either, but Michael Stahom really came through. It's like it never happened." Her voice was calm, relieved, and full of pride. But all I could feel was guilt pressing down on my chest. The sign meant so much more to her than just a piece of wood hanging outside the bakery. It was a piece of my dad, a symbol of everything he built, and I hadn't even been there to see it restored."Mom, I'm sorry I haven't been around," I said quietly, my fingers tightening around my phone. "I should've been there with you."
"Don't you worry about that," she replied, her voice soft but reassuring. "You've had a lot going on, and I understand. Besides, it's all taken care of now. The bakery's back to normal, and that's what matters. I'm just glad the sign's up again. It feels like a little part of your dad is still with us."
Her words tugged at something deep inside me, and my guilt only grew. How could I have let days slip by without even checking in? I'd been so wrapped up in jury duty, work, and my own exhaustion that I'd neglected the one thing that should've been a priority. Mom shouldn't have had to go through this alone
."I'll come by tomorrow," I promised, my voice softer now. "I want to see it." "Take your time, sweetheart. You've got enough on your plate. But it's good to know things are getting back to normal."
We said our goodbyes, and when I hung up, Samantha was looking at me with that knowing expression she always had when I was feeling overwhelmed.
"Feeling guilty?" she asked, raising an eyebrow."Yeah." I sank deeper into the couch, the weight of everything pressing down on me. "I should've been there. I haven't even checked in with her since the whole sign thing." "You've been busy," Samantha reminded me, her voice gentle.
"Your mom gets that. You can't do everything at once, June."
"I know, but it still feels like I'm letting things slip. Between school, the bakery, and now this murder trial, everything's just... piling up."
Samantha picked up her own envelope and glanced at it, then tossed it back onto the table. "Hey, we'll figure it out. One thing at a time, right? And besides, it's not like we're the ones on trial. We're just there to listen."
I wasn't so sure. The thought of being in that courtroom, hearing the details of a girl's murder, seeing this Aiden Graham in person—it all felt like too much. And yet, there was no getting out of it. The letter made it clear we were expected in court next Monday. It wasn't a request. It was our civic duty."I'll figure it out," I mumbled, more to myself than to her.
Samantha leaned over and gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "One thing at a time, June. We'll get through it."
As I sat there, staring at the envelope in my lap, my mind wandered back to the bakery sign, my dad, and the looming trial ahead. Everything felt uncertain, like the ground beneath me was shifting, and I was just trying to keep my balance. But like Samantha said, one thing at a time.