“I’m just saying.” She flips her hand at me dismissively.

Sarah and Anne enter the courthouse, each carrying a cup of coffee and a tote bag. A coffee would be great right about now, but if I’m wishing for things—a glass of scotch would be much better. They’re chatting as they approach me. I wonder where Matthew ran off to. He’s always showing up randomly and then disappearing. Sarah is wearing one of her standard power skirt suits in the color heather gray. Anne is dressed in a similar style, but her outfit probably costs a tenth of what Sarah’s does. Sarah’s whole demeanor changes when she sees my mother.

“There you are, Sarah,” Mom says. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to defending my son.”

Sarah stops quickly about a foot away. Anne gives an awkward nod and stands beside her. “The arraignment hasn’t started yet, Eleanor.”

Sarah practically turns her body away from my mom, making it very clear she has no desire to speak to her. “Here’s how this is going to go. You’ll enter your plea, and I’m going to try to get you out on bail. The judge will either grant or deny bail, and then he’ll set a trial date. Do you understand?”

“Yes. What are my chances of getting bail?”

“I’d say you should have a good chance. You have no criminal history and you’ve been cooperative thus far. But on the flip side, District Attorney Josh Peters may fight it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”

“Why?”

“Yes, why would anyone want to see my son behind bars?” Eleanor asks. Sarah ignores her and only focuses on me.

“This is a very violent crime, and he is seeking the death penalty, and because of that you might be deemed a flight risk.” She takes a sip of her coffee, then looks back at me. Her face softens. She holds the cup up, offering it to me. I glance down at my handcuffed hands and shrug. She brings the cup to my lips and pours it into my mouth. It’s lukewarm, but it’s better than anything I’ve had in the jail. Sarah gives me a small smile as I pull away. Maybe she does still love me.

“Thank you.”

She nods.

The information she just told me finally sinks in. “Wait, I’d have to spend the duration of the trial in jail if bail is denied?” I ask to confirm even though I know the answer to the question. I just want to talk to Sarah as husband and wife, not as lawyer and client.

“That’s correct.” I notice she has a bit of sweat on her forehead and her face is turning pale.

“That’s ridiculous. You better take care of this, Sarah.” Mom taps her heel on the floor.