“Enough, Mom!” My voice raises more than I’ve ever raised it to my mother. She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even bat an eye. I could literally throw this table across the room and punch her right in the mouth, and she’d still look at me like I was the reason the sun rose every morning.

“Oh, sweetheart. Jail is already making you temperamental.” She reaches across the table and caresses my cheek. “I’m going to bring you some of that peppermint tea you like. That used to help calm you down as a child.” She smiles at me.

I take a deep breath. The door opens and, in the doorway, stands Sarah. My mom turns her neck to look.

“Eleanor. Adam,” Sarah greets.

“Hello, Sarah.” My mother’s greeting is cold as usual.

“Adam isn’t supposed to have visitors until after his arraignment. How did you get in here?” Sarah questions.

“I have my ways.” Mom smirks.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Any good news?”

Sarah takes a couple of steps into the room and closes the door behind her. “I’m just here to tell you that they are officially charging you. You’ll need to enter a plea tomorrow.” She makes steady eye contact with my mother and me. “But I’ll be back in the morning to cover it with you. I just… I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“Officially charged?” I question.

Sarah nods.

“This is ridiculous, Sarah.” My mother stands from her chair. “You need to fix this.” She points at my wife.

“I’m working on it, Eleanor. The D.A. believes he can prove Adam’s guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, so he’s going for it.”

“But I didn’t do this!” My eyes get wet and my voice quakes.

“I know, sweetheart,” Mom says. “And we are going to get you the best attorney money can buy, and it’ll all be over soon.”

Sarah shakes her head. “I’m going to go.” She turns on her foot.

The guard pops open the door and stands there like a soldier at attention. “Visiting hours are over,” he announces.

Mom rushes around the table and hugs me. “I will be back tomorrow, cubbie-bear,” she whispers in my ear.

“Mom, don’t call me that. I’m in jail.” I push the words through gritted teeth trying not to let anyone hear me.

Sarah side-steps the guard to leave. My mother releases me and whips around. “Sarah, wait! I want to take you out for dinner. You know, discuss next steps,” my mother insists.

Sarah stops and looks back at us. “I have a lot of work to do and—”

Mom holds her hand up. “Your excuses won’t work with me. We’re going.”

23. Sarah Morgan

23

Sarah Morgan