But wasn’t it remarkable what Betsy knew about them? . . . They again talked about the proposal, the car crash, the new baby. The judge looked tired but happy. Must have had fun at the party. And the prosecutor, well, she looked exhausted and worried. Teenagers can be so much work and so much trouble.

Also, the jury knew that Peter was a serial killer. The prosecutor had fought like a hellfire dragon not to have that brought up, but the judge overruled her. It was relevant. It showed Peter’s character and what he was capable of. Peter deserved to be killed. Too bad he wasn’t killed sooner, that psychopath.

Johnny and Tilly had been beaten repeatedly by their father. A father should protect his children, not hurt them, so if there were some lingering questions about the knife and Betsy running in, well, whatever. A child abuser should die, like a psychopath should!

The jury filed in. They sat down. Yes, judge, they had their verdict.

Everyone sat forward in their seats. The courtroom was packed. Zoe was exhausted and worried. She, her husband, and their daughter had finally talked after she finished yelling at her. Her daughter was always lonely, always alone, she told her parents. Her boyfriend was the only one who paid her attention. He was kind to her, funny. “You and Dad always work. Why did you even have me? You don’t want me.”

Zoe was crushed, as was her husband. They were lousy parents. Was their sweet daughter pregnant?

“What say you?” the judge asked.

“Not guilty,” the jury forewoman intoned, then smiled at Betsy.

The courtroom exploded. Clapping, cheering, the press calling the results in to their respective newspapers.

“You are free to go,” the judge said to Betsy. He was befuddled by the whole premonition thing. He didn’t believe in premonitions. He didn’t believe in magic. He didn’t believe in curses. He didn’t believe in God. So what the hell happened with this woman? How did Betsy know about the party? He went home early that day, he was so tired from being up late with his brother.

Betsy cried. Johnny walked around the defense table, pulled her up and hugged her close as the cameras clicked, news reporters shouted out questions, and everyone else in the court room clapped and cheered.

“Ready to be farmers?” he asked her, overwhelmed, grateful.

Sobbing, she said yes.

Tilly joined them, wrapping her arms around her brother and his brother’s girlfriend, who she always thought of as a sister. They were a family. The three of them. Forever.

* * *

Tilly had found the transcripts of the first trial interesting.

Neither Johnny nor Betsy had seen Peter turn toward the gun cabinet. That had been an enormous legal problem for both of them, Tilly knew. If they hadn’t seen him turn to get a gun, there wasn’t much of a self-defense defense.