On my desk is a large sealed yellow manila envelope. What’s inside it may make or break me. I hesitate before dropping my bag on the floor, kicking off my heels and walking to my desk. I pick up the envelope and twirl it in my hand for a moment. It all comes down to this.

Pulling the metal clasp open and peeling back the flap, I slide out a small stack of paper. I quickly scan and flip the page, scan and flip the page, scan and flip the page and then my breath catches. A small gasp escapes. My mouth curves to a grin.

“I knew it. It’s a fucking match.”

60. Adam Morgan

60

Adam Morgan

A guard escorts me into the courtroom. I’m wearing a nice suit and I’m clean shaven, but the pair of handcuffs sullies my appearance. All of this is to try and make a good impression on the jury—to look innocent. I am innocent, but I need them to think that too.

Sarah stands at the table. She’s smiling. I haven’t seen her smile in a long time. I hope she has something up her sleeve, something that’ll save me. If she does, she hasn’t made me privy to it. I can’t really blame her. I’ve broken her trust countless times.

Scott went missing over the weekend and hasn’t been located by authorities. Perhaps that’s the angle she’s using. I shouldn’t have trusted Scott or Rebecca. I haven’t heard from her since the night I was arrested.

Matthew is also here, sitting in the front row, right behind Sarah. My mother is sitting in the second row looking proudly and fondly at me. I smile at her. I also notice right before I turn and take my seat that Deputy Marcus Hudson is in the back, looking very dapper in his dress blues. Why is he here? Sarah must be intending to call him to the stand or at least has made him think she will. Maybe this is the ace in the hole she is hiding.

Anne and Bob are in the back row. A rush of anger surges over me, but I settle it, remembering that they were both cleared. I still think at least one of them had something to do with this. D.A. Josh Peters is standing at the table across the aisle from Sarah, looking smug as usual. His demeanor concerns me, but I trust Sarah will knock him down a peg.

I smile at Sarah. She nods. The guard removes my handcuffs. Sarah and I take a seat but only for a few moments.

“All rise. Department One of the Superior Court is now in session. Judge Dionne presiding. Please be seated,” says the bailiff.