“I—” Ashley’s lawyer started. He glanced at Ashley. “I would like a moment with my client and her character witness.”

The officer drew in a breath, puffing up.

Big men could be so small.

“Please,” the lawyer said.

The officer turned his back, walking to the other side of the hallway. He was probably still close enough to overhear if he had a mind to.

Kenzie put her hand on Ashley’s, which was still on her head. The weight and pressure of Kenzie’s hand helped Ashley’s to go flat.

Ashley looked at the lawyer, and he broke eye contact.

She didn’t look away as she spoke, “Kenz. Help me out with something?”

“Whatever you need,” Kenzie said, her head moving under Ashley’s hand as she looked up.

“Can you get me a bottle of water from the vending machine?”

“Dry mouth?” Kenzie asked, hopping up.

“I’ll have it later. I want something for while I’m in court.”

“No problem,” Kenzie said, eyes lighting up. She turned to go.

“Here,” the lawyer said, change jingling in his pocket as he fished it out. Kenzie was already three paces away, and had to reverse course to get the change, then reverse course again.

“Get yourself a treat,” the man said.

Kenzie didn’t turn around, but bounced mid-stride instead.

Ashley took a seat on the bench.

“Any questions before we go in?” her lawyer asked. “We’ve got… five minutes. We can cover whatever you need.”

“Did she say something or give you something?”

The lawyer looked shocked, and he didn’t give an immediate answer.

“Show me. Tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“Now. There isn’t much time before she gets back.”

The man reached beside him, and he pulled out a tablet computer. The video was already up, having been the last thing viewed.

The view was slanted, like the ones that had been projected onto the walls of their apartment headquarters. Beast of Burden, Damsel, Nailbiter, Love Lost…

The scene with all the same characters, at the edge of the Fallen compound.

When the events diverged, even though she expected them to, Beast of Burden pressing the attack, being more aggressive, the blast happening midway through an assault, she found herself doubting her own experiences first, logic and expectations settling in a moment later.

It didn’t help that she’d been off when the event had happened. Reality was so ephemeral.

“Delete it. It’s not the events as they happened.”

“She said you’d say that. That you want to go to prison for some reason, but it’s not in your best interests.”