Los Vinania District Courthouse – Day One of the Trial
The courthouse stood like a fortress—gray, cold, and indifferent. It wasn’t built to feel like justice; it was built to control chaos. Maria-Isabel felt that in her bones as the prison van pulled up behind the building.
She had been silent the entire ride.
When the guard opened the door and guided her out in cuffs, her heart thudded—not from fear of judgnt, but from the unbearable weight of being seen. She kept her chin up, even as her knees trembled.
She wore a plain cream blouse under a beige cardigan, her hair loosely tied back. No makeup, no distractions. Just her—fragile but not broken.
The courtroom was packed.
Reporters, lawyers, a few curious townspeople, and in the back, soone she hadn’t expected: a woman clutching a teddy bear. Officer April. Isabella wasn’t there, but a piece of her was.
Maria’s eyes searched the room and landed on Ethan, already seated at the defense table, dressed in a navy suit that fit him like armor. His jaw clenched when he saw her. He stood imdiately.
"Your Honor," the bailiff announced as the judge entered.
"Court is now in session for the case of The State vs. Maria-Isabel Williams Lewis." Maria’s na rang through the chamber like an accusation carved in steel.
She sat, wrists trembling slightly as Ethan leaned toward her. "You okay?" he whispered. She didn’t nod. Didn’t speak. But her eyes, full of storm, answered: No. But I’m ready.
Across the room, the prosecutor stood lean, sharp-eyed, and confident. She wasted no ti.
"Today, we bring before you a woman accused of two murders. Two lives lost. One of them was the father of her child, a man she once loved. The other, an innocent man. A co-worker."
Maria closed her eyes. Innocent. That word twisted sothing deep inside her.
"We intend to show," the prosecutor continued, "that these weren’t accidents. They were choices. Calculated. Covered up. And that justice, no matter how delayed, will be served."
Rafa, seated behind Ethan, scribbled a note and passed it forward. They’re going for cold-blooded. We hit back with survival. Don’t wait—humanize her early.
Ethan glanced at Maria.
"Do you want to speak today?" he asked under his breath. Maria swallowed, eyes locked on her folded hands.
"Let them speak," she said. "Let them paint a monster first. I want them to hear the truth after they think they’ve figured out." He gave a short nod. Tactical. Brave. Brilliant.
The judge called for the opening statent from the defense. Ethan rose slowly. He didn’t posture or raise his voice.
"My client, Maria-Isabel Williams Lewis, has been called a murderer. But today, I ask this court to look deeper, not at the cri, but at the story. A story of fear, control, and abuse. A story of a woman who tried everything to live in peace, and when that peace was violated, again and again... she did what many wouldn’t have survived."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"We will present evidence, testimonies, and truths that have been hidden too long. You will not leave here wondering if she killed him—you’ll understand why she had to."
He sat. And the trial began.
Witnesses were called. Forensics explained the blood patterns. The officer who first arrived at the cri scene recalled the cold fridge and the strange mix of panic and silence in Maria’s eyes.
Each word felt like a hamr to her chest. But she didn’t flinch. She watched. She listened. She waited.
—-
The house was silent now, the kind of deep, post-midnight quiet that only cos after an emotionally draining day. The hallway lights had been dimd, and the twins were fast asleep in their room. Stefan hadn’t co back downstairs after dinner. Steve was resting peacefully, and Stanley had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV, still in his dress shirt and socks.
Mara sat at the edge of her bed, legs folded beneath her, staring at her phone.
Rafael hadn’t called. Just those three ssages earlier—brief, careful. A checklist of affection.
How are you? Take care. I love you. She exhaled and finally dialed.
The line rang three tis before he answered.
"Hey," Rafael’s voice ca through, slightly hushed, like he was stepping away from a desk. "I was just about to call you back."
Mara didn’t answer imdiately. Just listened to the familiarity of his voice, letting it settle the ache in her chest. "Hi," she said eventually. "I wasn’t sure if I should... but I just wanted to hear your voice."
A short pause.
"I’m glad you called," Rafael said. "I’ve been buried in work. My client, Mrs. Lewis, is the one I told you about. We’ve been preparing a full defense strategy. It’s been... nonstop."
"Sounds intense," Mara said quietly, too distracted to make a connection between the nas. "It is. But I’m handling it." He paused. "How’s Steve?"
She brightened, just slightly. "The first stage of the treatnt started today. He’s tired, but he’s okay. The doctors think he responded well."
"That’s good. That’s really good to hear."
Another pause.
"And you?" Rafael asked gently. "How are you holding up?"
Mara hesitated. She could say fine. She could lie.
But she just said, "I’m trying."
"I know it’s a lot. But you’re strong, Stef. You always have been."
The words were kind, but distant—like a postcard sent from far away. Not cold, not cruel, but sohow... practiced. "I miss you," she said softly before she could stop herself.
Rafael was quiet.
Then, "I miss you more, I’ll see you soon. I promise. I just... need to finish this case." Mara smiled faintly, but her heart stayed still. "Okay."
"I’m okay, Stef," Rafa added, as if he knew that was the real reason she’d called. "I’m okay." That was all she’d wanted to know.
But when the call ended, and her room returned to silence, Mara found herself sitting there with the phone still in her hand. She believed him. She believed he was okay. What she wasn’t sure of anymore... was them.
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