I Sent Him to Prison, Now I'm Falling for His Brother novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Twelve Years

Brinley testifies Nadine flirted, Nadine holds on the stand, and Luka is sentenced; he promises he will be out in nine.

The trial started in January, in a courtroom with a radiator that clanked through every answer.

Seven months of waiting had worn me down to bone.

I wore my only blazer.

My mother sat behind me in the first row, holding her purse in both hands.

Luka Stafford sat at the defense table in a navy suit that cost more than our car.

His hair was combed, his face was clean, and he did not look at me once.

His mother sat directly behind him, in pearls.

The prosecutor called me first.

I walked to the stand, swore on the Bible and said my name.

For an hour she led me through that night, one question at a time.

I answered every one.

I did not cry, because I had decided that I would not.

Then the defense lawyer stood up and buttoned his jacket.

"Miss Corwin, you'd had a beer that night, correct?"

"One beer."

"And you went upstairs willingly."

"I went upstairs to use a bathroom."

"With a man you'd just met in the kitchen."

"He followed me. I didn't know he was behind me until the door locked."

"You'd been laughing with him, though. Flirting, even."

"I gave him a fake name and walked away from him."

"Isn't it true, Miss Corwin, that you regretted it the next morning and needed someone to blame?"

"It's true that I woke up the next morning knowing exactly who to blame."

A few people in the gallery made sounds.

The judge told them to be quiet.

The lawyer smiled a little and said, "No further questions."

I stepped down with my knees shaking, and the prosecutor squeezed my arm.

"You did it," she whispered. "That was the hard part."

It was not the hard part.

The hard part was the next witness.

"The defense calls Brinley Hutton."

I turned in my seat.

She walked down the aisle in a pale blue dress I had helped her pick out in the spring.

She did not look at me.

She raised her right hand and swore to tell the truth.

"Miss Hutton, you've known the plaintiff since childhood?"

"Since third grade."

"Describe her behavior at the party."

Brinley twisted her hands.

"She was drinking," she said. "And she kept looking at him. At Luka. In the kitchen. She was laughing a lot."

"Did she appear interested in him?"

"I thought so."

"Did she tell you she was interested?"

"She said he was cute."

"I said no such thing," I said, standing up.

The judge hit the gavel.

"Miss Corwin, sit down."

I stayed on my feet for one more second.

Brinley finally lifted her eyes to mine, and they were wet.

"I'm sorry, Nadine," she said, soft, into the microphone. "I have to tell the truth."

My mother pulled me down by the sleeve.

The prosecutor cross-examined, and Brinley cried, and none of it moved.

The jury was out for four hours.

I sat on a bench in the hallway with my mother's hand in my hair.

When they called us back, the foreman did not look at the Staffords.

"On the charge of rape in the first degree," he said, "we find the defendant guilty."

My mother cried out loud.

I did not move.

I heard the sentence from a long way off.

Twelve years.

The judge said it plainly, and he said it to Luka's face.

Luka turned his head, finally.

He looked straight at me, and he did not look drunk now.

He looked cold and sober and almost curious.

Then he mouthed at me: Nine.

The deputy took his arm.

Cornelia Stafford rose in her pearls, and the aisle opened for her, because this town always opened for her.

She stopped beside my row.

She did not raise her voice.

"You've ended two lives, Miss Corwin," she said. "His and yours. Remember that I told you."

"He ended mine," I said, "when he locked the door."

"That's what you'll tell yourself."

"That's what the jury just told you."

Her mouth went thin.

Behind her I saw Brinley slip out of the witness room and into the hall.

She was crying hard now, her shoulders shaking.

I went after her.

I caught her at the courthouse doors, under the stone eagle.

"Why?" I asked.

She wiped her face with the back of her wrist.

"Nadine, I swear. They made me. His lawyer said if I didn't, they'd say I gave you the drinks, and then I'd be part of it."

"You told them I wanted it."

"I said what they put in front of me."

"You sat next to me at that station and held my hand."

"I know." She reached for me.

I stepped out of reach.

"Don't call me," I said.

I walked down the courthouse steps alone, into the cold, with my mother behind me.

At the bottom I heard a voice from the sheriff's van parked at the curb.

The back window was cracked, and a deputy was loading Luka into it.

He looked out at me through the gap, and he smiled.

"Nine years, Nadine," he said, loud enough for the whole street. "I'll be out in nine."

The deputy shoved him down into the seat.

"And I'll know exactly where to find you."

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