The insult sent a dark red spiraling across his tanned face. “No matter what is decided here today, you’ll never teach again. Nobody will allow a possible psychopath near their kids.”
He’d pitched a direct hit, and a damn good one. The time in the psychiatric hospital might be used against her in the future. Andrew had always known how to hurt her.
His gaze moved behind her, and he took a step back.
She didn’t turn. A creak of the wood promised Max had stood to his full height. She’d bet his expression was anything but kind.
“Return to your seat, Drew. We’re done.” Sarah used the nickname he’d always hated.
Andrew swallowed loudly. “You’ve made your bed.” He turned on his heel and stomped back to the blonde.
The wooden bench creaked in protest behind her. Max had sat back down.
Jase eyed her. “Your brother’s an asshole.”
Sarah forced a smile. “Half brother, and yeah, he is.”
Teaching fulfilled a need in her, and she was good at it. She loved her students and loved the glee they showed when learning something new. Fury heated her stomach at the thought that she’d never teach again.
A side door opened and a uniformed bailiff stalked inside. “All rise.”
Everyone stood, and a judge dressed in the customary black robe strode inside and took his seat. “Sit. Everyone sit.”
Steel-gray hair was slicked back from a weathered face sporting deep laugh lines near his mouth. He wore wire-rimmed glasses on his narrow nose. Intelligence shone in his faded blue eyes as he scanned the room. “So. Family fight here, huh?”
Nobody spoke, but Sarah found herself nodding.
The judge narrowed his focus to her. “Are you crazy, young lady?”
“No, sir.” The anger receded as she focused. Her smile was genuine. The man knew how to get to the point.
The blond attorney stood. “Melanie Melcome for the Petitioner, your honor.”
“I know who you are, Ms. Melcome.” The judge squinted at Jase. “You, however, I do not know.”
Jase stood. “Jason Belamny for Miss Pringle.”
“I know your name, young man.” The judge grabbed a file, tapping it. “I’ve read your documents, which were very well written. I researched you. You graduated top in your class from Harvard and work in southern Washington. Yet here you are in Seattle.”
Charm oozed from Jase. “I’m a country lawyer working on land use planning and contracts, judge. But Miss Pringle needed help, and we’re old friends. So I came to help.”
Wow. He sounded so sincere Sarah almost believed him. She’d taken a look at his fake credentials earlier. The vampires had some expert forgers.
The judge nodded. “Very well. Let’s get this hearing started.” He cleared his throat. “Ms. Melcome, I assume the testimony of your client and the psychiatrist will follow the brief you filed? That Miss Pringle has suffered a mental breakdown and should be found incompetent, for the good of the company?”
“Yes, your Honor.” Melanie nodded.
“And Mr. Belamny? Your position is clearly laid out in your briefs?”
“Yes, sir.” Jase frowned. Apparently the judge was not going to follow usual procedure.
The judge nodded. “Then I see no reason to waste time on opening statements or anyone testifying to what’s already in affidavits and briefs. Let’s get to it. Mr. Belamny, why don’t you call your client to the stand? Let’s talk about mental competency.”
Jase leaned over. “This is unusual, but judges have discretion. Take the stand, Sarah.”
Chapter 8
Sarah stood on shaking legs to walk the distance to the witness stand. The leather squeaked as she settled in the chair. Joy cascaded through her so powerfully she caught her breath. The last person to sit had adopted a baby boy after years of trying. The new mother’s elation wiped out any other sensation left in the chair.
Her shoulders relaxed, and Sarah folded her hands in her lap. The bailiff swore her in.
Jase stood, smoothing down his silk tie. “Miss Pringle, why were you sent to Brancrest?”
Sarah leaned toward the microphone. “I was sent there so my brother could steal my stock and sell our company.”
“Objection.” Melanie stood.
Jase flashed a smooth smile. “On what grounds?”
Melanie pursed her lips, then tilted her head. “The witness isn’t qualified to speak as to my client’s motivation. She’s not in his head.”
“Sustained,” the judge said. “Rephrase, Mr. Belamny.”
Jase nodded. “Sarah, we’re here because you saw the murder of a friend of yours and insisted a white-faced creature—you called him a vampire—killed her. Do you remember that night?”
Her stomach sank. “Yes, I do.”
“Do you still believe vampires killed your friend?”
She took a deep breath. “No. Vampires did not kill Lila.”
“Why have you changed your mind?” Jase asked.
“Therapy at Brancrest. I learned that after a traumatic event, your brain might make things up. Like scary monsters.” All the truth. Dr. Robard had repeatedly tried to teach her that. Plus, now she knew real vampires. They were good, while Kurjans weren’t.
Jase nodded. “Yet you ran away from Brancrest.”
She turned her focus to the judge. “I just wanted to go home.”
He nodded, understanding filling his eyes.
“Tender the witness.” Jase returned to his seat.
Melanie stood, her heels clicking sharply as she strode to stand in front of her table. “So who killed Lila?”
“I don’t know,” Sarah whispered.
“Can you describe him?”
Nausea swirled in Sarah’s stomach. She could describe him. White-faced, purple eyes, sharp canines. A strong pull yanked her attention to Max. He locked eyes with her, giving her confidence, reminding her to think of the bigger picture. She needed to stay strong. “No. I can’t describe him. The night is still a blur, and the doctor said my memory may always be fuzzy.”
Melanie reached for a manila file, opening the front flap. “When you escaped last week, you created a website geared toward finding the white-faced vampires.” She glanced up, sharp eyes hardening. “Last week, Miss Pringle.”
Panic ripped down Sarah’s spine. Even then, Max’s strength reached for her. She swallowed. “I learned at Brancrest that writing can heal. I thought if I wrote a horror novel, then maybe I could let go of that horrible night.” Still the truth ... though not all of it. She tried to keep her face serious. Heat began to climb through her cheeks.
Melanie took a step toward her. “Did a human kill Lila?”
Sarah met the attorney’s gaze. “No. Only something evil could’ve ripped Lila’s head off. No humanity existed in the person who did that.”
Melanie studied her. “Did the killer look like, I don’t know, like a zombie?”
Jase stood. “Asked and answered. My client has related the events of that night to the best of her ability. As well as she can now. Enough.”
The judge nodded. “I agree. Miss Pringle, step down, please.”
Sarah sighed in relief and took slow steps to get to Jase and sit down. He remained standing. “Now, your honor, we’d like for Dr. Robard, Sarah’s psychiatrist, to testify regarding her recuperation.”
The door opened, and Dr. Robard limped inside. He appeared decades older than he had the previous day.
Robard testified regarding traumatic events, and more important, how Sarah’s brain had processed the terrible evening the best it could. Sweat rolled down his face, and his eyes darted around the courtroom. He concluded she was no longer under any illusions.
Melanie stood to cross-examine him. Her smile served to visibly relax the doctor. “Now, doctor, I know it’s difficult testifying about a patient.”