A Time to Speak

by Riley Scott

  Amelia set down the pillow and reached over to wrap her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Dad.” When she pulled back, she was smiling through the tears. “You really are incredible.”

  “You are too, and we’ll face whatever life throws at us together,” he said. Taking her hand again, he looked deep into her eyes, thankful she hadn’t seen him cry over this, struggle with everything he had always believed, and break down. He was thankful she could see his love and hoped one day she would see it from her mother too.

  He took a drink of his coffee and cleared his throat. “Anything else you need to talk about?”

  She looked at him curiously, cocking her head to the side.

  “Is there anything else? I know you’ve been through hell and back, and through a ton of heartache on your own, so if you need to talk it out, I’m here.”

  “I’m getting better,” she said. Confidence shone in her eyes. “I had some hard days and nights. It’s been a struggle, but I’ve found productive outlets, and I have made a really close friend who’s helped me through a lot of the issues I’ve had.”

  “I’m glad you have a good friend to talk to. Anyone I know?”

  “She’s not from around here, but she’s been in town helping out after all of this.” She opened her mouth to speak, but bit her lip instead and shook her head. “She’s a great person,” she added with a curt nod.

  “Friend?” George asked, the wheels turning in his mind.

  “Something like that,” Amelia said with a shrug. Her face reddened and her foot tapped nervously on the floor.

  George stroked his beard, trying to make sense of it all. “So there’s someone new?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  “There is. “Amelia smiled as the words left her lips. “She’s pretty special. We love each other. She’s there for me, I’m there for her, we laugh together, and she makes me want to be a better person.” She wrung her hands together, looking to the side.

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “This is new territory for both of us, having a conversation like this. But that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. What’s her name?”

  “Dominique,” Amelia’s words were less than a whisper.

  “Pretty name. Does she treat you right?”

  Amelia’s smile grew. She nodded. “She really does. In fact sometimes I think she treats me better than I deserve. There’s nothing but respect and trust. It’s great.”

  That twinkle in her eye was something he hadn’t seen there since she was a kid. He cleared his throat, straightening in his chair. “Okay, so you’re happy?”

  Amelia pursed her lips and shifted her eyes to the side. She shrugged. “Happy with her? Yes. I’m happy with her. Am I happy in general? I’m not sure how to answer that. It’s hard to skip gleefully in a field of wildflowers, when the field is on fire. But I have hope that together we’ll be able to go through that fire and come out stronger for it. She makes me happy in so many ways, and I want her by my side as I figure out this mess called life.”

  He smiled and patted her on the knee. “Well, I think you’ve got a good grasp on life, sweetheart, like you’ve always had. The field catches fire from time to time. We just have to make sure we’ve got the right person beside us to help us enjoy the beauty of the blaze.”

  “Pretty poetic,” Amelia said with a laugh. “It’s a weird time in my life. Everything is changing. Chloe is gone. I’ve stepped out of hiding into a brand new, scary world. I thought I lost you all. But through it all, I’ve found myself. And I’m not going back into hiding. I’m not fighting who I am or who I fall in love with. I think it’s going to be really good, but…” she trailed off, looking at the ceiling.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m scared,” she said, turning her gaze back to him. “I’m really scared, but I’m thankful I don’t have to face it alone. I have her, and I have you in my corner. And that will be more than enough to help me stand back up, stronger than I was before.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, bringing her in for a hug. “I’m always going to be here.” He stood, tossing his coffee cup into the trash. “I’m going to let you get back to your work day, but you can always call me. In the meantime, I hope you get to see your girl tonight. When you do, tell her I said ‘thank you’ for being there for you.”

  “I will,” she said, her smile lighting up. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he said, heading for the door. He always had, and he always would.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Pacing back and forth in the bakery kitchen, Amelia wrung her hands around the towel she was holding, darting her eyes back and forth from the small television she kept in the back to the floor. Dominique was there, in that courtroom, surrounded by a huge crowd advocating to preserve their golden boy—advocating for injustice. Amelia’s stomach lurched, and she stopped pacing long enough to take a deep breath.

  “The jury has reached its verdict,” she heard one of the men say. Snapping her head back to the live feed, she bit her lip. Clamping down, she didn’t even wince when blood trickled into her mouth. He was still talking, but she couldn’t make sense of it. Her head swirled as she recounted the month-long trial. Never before had she watched the live feed, opting instead to get feedback from Dominique and occasionally read a newspaper article. It hurt too much to watch them relive the gritty details. All she had needed to know was that he had been charged with murder and the trial had been gruesome.

  The sharp pain in her lip brought her out of her stupor. Releasing her bite, she filled the place with her fingernails, biting as she waited.

  “Guilty of murder,” he said finally.

  She let out a sigh and slid down the back wall, until she was sitting in a heap. Taking a series of steadying breaths, she watched as they panned the camera around the courtroom, showing the shocked faces of the crowd.

  If she had the strength, she would have stood and turned it off. But she couldn’t. Her legs were wobbly so she shut her eyes. Bringing her hands up to cover her face, she shook her head. It was far from over.

  As if putting together a puzzle, she fit the pieces together. The prosecution had asked for life in prison, but she had done enough Google searches to know that, under Texas law, sentencing for murder could range greatly.

  Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to think of anything optimistic. Dominique’s face popped into her mind, and she smiled. If nothing else, this would soon be over, and she would get to carry on with her life, with Dominique by her side.

  Bracing herself on the counter, she pulled her body upright. They might not be able to change this town, but together, they’d do their best to make life beautiful. She looked upward, straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath before shutting off the television.

  “Enough for one day,” she muttered, throwing the towel on the counter and shutting off the lights.

  As she headed out the door, she knew there was only one place she wanted to be, and that was snuggled in Dominique’s arms. Even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling that doomsday was approaching. But if it was, she was going to prepare them a decent last supper.

  * * *

  When the first hints of sunlight streamed through her curtains, Amelia let out a sigh of relief. Even though she had been lulled to comfort by the rhythmic sounds of Dominique’s breathing throughout the night, she hadn’t been able to fall asleep. Her unruffled pillow and her racing mind seemed to mock her in the early morning light. Even so, it felt good to be surrounded by the love radiating from Dominique’s body. Unable to figure out which emotion was winning, she rolled over to face the wall. Stilling her breathing so she wouldn’t disturb Dominique, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on something else—anything else. But, as if a neon sign were flashing, all she could think was today is the day.

  She stood and walked to the kitchen. Coffee was a must. Aside from that, she wasn’t sure what she needed. She put the coffee on and paced back and forth in front of it wh
ile it brewed. Instinctively, she brought her right hand up to her mouth and chewed off one of her fingernails.

  “Are you okay?” Dominique asked from the doorway. Amelia jumped.

  “Sorry,” Amelia said, turning around. “I didn’t hear you there. I guess I was a little lost in thought.”

  “I figured that might be the case today,” Dominique said, walking up with a cautious look. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  When Dominique opened her arms, Amelia sank into the embrace. Leaning on her, she took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I’ve thought about it all, and I’ve been avoiding the trial for the last month. I thought I might want to be there in person to hear the sentencing, but now I don’t think I want to be in that courtroom. I don’t think I want to see his face or listen to whatever they conjure up to try to make this better. The defense’s claims that he was unstable or momentarily insane, that his childhood was tarnished, have all been painful enough to read about in the paper. I know none of that will be brought up today, but I also know that it may factor into decisions. I know you’ve been there and you’ve seen it, and just like I asked, you haven’t brought it up at home unless I asked for a recap. But I don’t think I can do it. I don’t want to see his face and hear it if they make this seem like it wasn’t horrific. I wasn’t there, and it’s been months, but I still get chills and have nightmares whenever I think about it.” She patted Dominique on the shoulder, a silent “thank you” for being there, and continued pacing around the kitchen while the coffee finished brewing. When it was done, she busied herself pouring two cups, as Dominique took a seat at the breakfast bar.

  “I already told you I’m not opening the shop today, right?” Amelia asked, even though she already knew the answer. Dominique nodded and Amelia set down a cup of coffee in front of her. “I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere, maybe to the lake and just spend the day outside. What do you think?”

  “Whatever you want, we can do it. I just have to be somewhere with cell service, so I can issue our statements once the sentencing is read.”

  “Okay.” Amelia braced herself on the counter. “Thank you. I’ll make sure we’re within range, so we can both be updated and you can get your work done.” She paused, the weight of her selfishness hitting her like a ton of bricks. “Do you need to be in that courtroom? If you do, I will pull myself together and sit through it.” She tried to smile, but instead let out a forced, ragged breath.

  Dominique’s expression faded into a soft, grateful smile, and she rose from her spot, walking over to place her hands on Amelia’s shoulder. “I don’t have to be there. That was never something that was agreed upon. I just have to be ready to comment and figure out the next steps. Other than that, I don’t have anywhere I have to be, other than where I want to be. And that’s with you. I want to be by your side, and I’ll go wherever you go.”

  Amelia bit her tongue and closed her eyes, silently willing her tears to hold off. But when Dominique pulled her into an embrace, her composure cracked. Muffling the soft sobs against Dominique’s shoulder, her body shook as every ounce of pent-up emotion spilled forth.

  “It’s okay. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  After several minutes, Amelia took a deep breath. Even with her puffy eyes and her face now a mess, she felt somewhat better. Dominique was right. Whatever happened, they would figure out a way to make things okay again. She kissed Dominique on the cheek and pulled back from the embrace. Straightening her white T-shirt, she nodded. “Let’s get ready then. I’ll pack a lunch, and we’ll take a hike.” She went through the possibilities of things they could do that would occupy her mind and her energy, all while keeping them in range of cell service. She tapped her foot, finding none of the options good enough. She grabbed her coffee cup and downed it as if she were taking a shot. “No,” she said, after a moment of deliberation. “That’s not good enough. I’m strong enough to do this, and we both should be there. You need to be there, and so do I.” She set her cup down and gripped the counter. “We’ll be there, in that courtroom, and we will make sure they know the faces and names of people this affects.”

  Dominique nodded slowly and raised an eyebrow, her unspoken questions looming between them.

  “I’m sure,” Amelia said, holding her head high. “I want to be able to look future generations in the eye and tell them to fight as hard—if not harder—than I did. Now isn’t the time to cower in the corner. Now is the time to take a stand. Through this whole thing, I’ve been reminded that silence, hiding, and taking the easy route aren’t options. I’ve had you by my side for that journey.” She walked over and took Dominique by the hand. “And that’s what I’m going to continue to do, whatever the outcome may be.”

  Dominique’s smile grew, and she nodded. “That’s my girl,” she said quietly, leading the way back to Amelia’s bedroom. “Let’s get dressed and ready for whatever is to come.”

  As if her veins had filled with steel, Amelia tightened her grip on Dominique’s hand and marched ahead, making no mistake that they were going to enter a war zone.

  Dressed in her favorite black slacks and blazer, with a conservative maroon camisole underneath to add a pop of color, Amelia looked in the mirror. Smiling at her reflection, she noted the way her green eyes blazed with intensity. Gone was the carefree, happy-go-lucky look she had worn so often in earlier days. In its place was the face of a battle-ready warrior.

  No longer was she content just to sit on the sidelines and watch as her future was decided. She set her jaw, reminding herself this was her future, as much as it was anyone’s. She took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair one more time. Turning on a heel, she glanced to the corner of the room, where Dominique had put the finishing touches on her own outfit.

  “I’ll drive,” Amelia said, keeping her voice steadier than she felt.

  “You sure?”

  Amelia nodded, needing to take control of something, anything, at this point. On the drive over, she contemplated making small talk, but opted to let music serve as the only background noise. There was too much to say and none of it helpful.

  Once in the courtroom, she looked around wide-eyed. This place was a zoo. Secretaries to lawyers scurried about the room, handing over notes and documents. The media shuffled around the room, circling like vultures. She shook her head, trying to make sense of it all, but her head only seemed to cloud more. Familiar hints of dizziness danced at the corners of her vision, and she blinked, pushing them aside. After what felt like an eternity, Dominique selected seats for them close to the aisle in the back row. Thankful to blend into the crowd, Amelia placed her hands in her lap.

  Her palms were sweaty, but when she finally felt the dizziness dissipate, she looked up to see the judge. A mainstay in the community, his presence filled her mind with memories from early childhood. She assessed his grandfatherly look, his long, gray beard and the deepened lines around his face. In her mind, she could hear his drawl, the same one that had livened up parties and had read stories to children at annual Christmas gatherings. Gripping the seat beneath her, she reminded herself that many memories could be tarnished today. She shook her head, vowing to exert only positive vibes. He also stood the chance to echo justice in the room today.

  The courtroom came to life with the tap of the gavel. She sat still and stoic, listening to what sounded like a slew of incoherence. One glance to her left caused her to jerk her head away in disgust. The mayor sat in the front row with his head held high. Her stomach churned at his defiance and arrogance. She bit her lip, attempting to jolt herself out of her stupor. Turning her attention on the judge, she watched him with intensity, feeling every bit like a child who couldn’t focus during a church sermon.

  Sitting up straighter in her seat, Amelia’s body stiffened. As the words were read, Amelia’s throat constricted. Her heart raced and she grabbed Dominique’s hand for support. Beside her, Dominique gripped Amelia’s hand harder.


  “Having been found guilty of murder,” the judge spoke, and Amelia momentarily let out a breath of relief even though he said what she already knew. With her mind reeling, dizziness crept in and she closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she jerked her head back and stared into the judge’s eyes while he talked. He cleared his throat and she stiffened. “Six years…” Her ears rang, and the words echoed in her mind, shutting down anything else that might come from the judge’s lips.

  Closing her eyes, she no longer wanted to see the faces of anyone around her. Her heart pounded so loudly, it shook her internally. Dominique’s grip loosened, and she felt the tap on her arm. Looking up, her head swam with confusion. Dominique’s lips were tight and she nodded, motioning toward the door. She stood, straightened her jacket and took Dominique by the hand. Even though her thoughts were jumbled, she walked out as proudly as she could manage, ignoring the way her stomach lurched.

  “I need just a second,” Dominique said, once they were outside the building. On the front steps, she pulled out her phone, punched in something, and leveled her gaze at Amelia. “That set society back at least twenty years,” she muttered, before taking Amelia’s hand again and making a beeline for the car.

  “What do you want to do now?” Dominique asked, when they were back at the car. Amelia turned to face her. Dominique’s face was somber and drained of color. Her expressionless eyes stared ahead, haunted by questions that she wasn’t yet willing to speak. Amelia took a deep breath, unlocking the car and getting in. Wordlessly, Dominique climbed in beside her.

  “I want to do a million things. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to get drunk and yell obscenities. I want to blaze through town with banners fighting back and making them see their error. I also want to hole up in my house in fear. I want to move, but at the same time, I want to stay. I want someone to explain that lenient sentence to me in some other terms than because Trent had a fucked-up childhood or because he acted in a moment of passion. I’m unsure if I ever want to hear anything about the case ever again. I want to punch the mayor and his son in the face. I want someone to feel the weight of this heartache.” She paused, allowing herself the chance to breathe. She reached over and placed her hand on top of Dominique’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The problem is that I want too many things—too many conflicting things at that. So I think the real question we have to answer is what we need.”