I know it's a fruitless endeavor, but I walk to the door and check to see that it is in fact locked. The balcony too. I'm trapped in here with nowhere to go and nothing but these terrible thoughts rattling around in my brain.

I try to do some yoga to relax, but somewhere between downward dog and child's pose, another torrent of emotion floods over me. I end up curled up on the floor, rocking myself in an attempt to soothe the ache in my chest. When I close my eyes, I see that woman’s face all over again. And when I open them, I see reminders everywhere.

The lamp shattering as it collides with her skull. The blood slipping down my fingers. I don't have to be in that room to feel those things. To hear them. They are on an almost constant feedback loop now, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

I barely make it to the toilet before I heave and spew the only thing I managed to get down today, which was water. My stomach cramps, and I retch again, but nothing comes up. As it turns out, you can’t vomit up your guilt after all.

I'm clinging to the toilet bowl, clammy and weak, when I feel a presence behind me. I lift my head to find Judge standing there, concern etched into his features. But as his eyes move over me, drifting down to my arm that's clutching my stomach, I see the question in them. He's concerned not only that I might be sick, but I'm certain he's also speculating about the reason.

"I..." My voice dies off as I pull myself up, and the room starts spinning.

"Fuck."

Judge's muffled curse is the last thing I hear before I stagger sideways and start to collapse, right into the strength of his arms.

6

Judge

She’s not for you.

I lay Mercedes down on her bed. She’s dressed in yoga pants and a sweater, her hair still loose, her feet still bare.

Not. For. You.

I swallow that fact down and sit on the edge of the bed, scrubbing my face. I wonder what my colleagues and those slated to appear in my courtroom thought of the half-moon-shaped marks on my cheeks from Mercedes’s fingernails. No one dared ask. They know better.