Page 104 of Exile
My fingers strum my hips nervously as I watch the Judge enter the room from a side door, her black robe billowing behind her as she walks powerfully towards her seat.
The whole room is dead silent, the bailiff motioning for us to sit once her Honor is settled into her chair.
I've been counting down to this moment, desperate to know what's in store for me. When we got wind that the agency investigating Lilydale decided to reopen all our cases, I wasn't sure how to feel.
For the past few weeks, the Court has been summoning patients one by one, reviewing the previous charges that led us to Lilydale. Apparently, the facilities can't hold onto all of us long term, and with the only other viable option being prison, someone recommended that we should be re-trialed or attempt to appeal our sentences. Even sending us all to prison would be a burden on resources, and given the torture and experience we all had in Lilydale, it was deemed necessary to review everything thoroughly.
Everyone had been hopeful when we found out. Except me.
The idea of my past being scrutinized again made me feel sick. Even more so the fact that there's a possibility I could go to prison. Or what if I'm released and the guys are still found guilty? Too many factors lay in the hands of others, and my track record with allowing people to decide my fate isn't great.
Peering over my shoulder, I spot Dr. Smith and Margie in the courtroom gallery, the two of them giving me reassuring smiles.
From what I've been told, they have been to every court appearance to date, supporting patients. The guys apparently haven't been summoned yet and only a handful of women have returned to Ridgeview Valley Rehabilitation Home so information has been limited, to say the least.
When I got notice yesterday that it was my turn today, I didn't sleep a wink. Jillian had managed to use one of the computers in the facility to help find precedent to argue my case, but at the end of the day, it all comes down to the public defender next to me and the Judge.
Lilydale was… traumatic. And no doubt that will work in my favor. But I still killed. Not only my father, but I killed while in Lilydale.
Police had scoured Lilydale after everything went down, securing the footage to watch to help the agency with their investigation. There's literal evidence that I committedarson and murder, not to mention the guys. We can argue that it was self defence, but we were in Lilydale for a reason.
"In the matter of the people versus Avery Elizabeth White, the Court will now review the original charges and evidence presented during the trial," the Judge recites, glancing at me briefly before switching to the public defender. "Mr. Lovett, as you will."
The public defender reminds me a lot of my hotshot lawyer from the first time round—young, ambitious. Except he also looks tired. I don't blame him though. He suddenly had nearly one hundred cases thrown at him with little time to prepare. The system is ridiculously overwhelmed and he lifts my file in his hands, hazel eyes meeting the Judge's as he clears his throat.
"Thank you, Your Honor. The defendant was previously brought before the Court in relation to a homicide charge pertaining to her father. The Court will note that previous evidence provided by the Defence indicated that the defendant was the victim of domestic abuse. Due to the mitigating factors of the case, the charge was downgraded to involuntary manslaughter as the defendant claimed to not have intended to harm the deceased. Due to her mental state at the time, she was allegedly attempting to end her own life and was not aware her father had returned to the property prior to starting a fire."
I rub my scars nervously, focusing on the tattoos covering them. The whole courtroom is getting a first hand recount of my life, and it's only going to get worse from here.
"I see," the Judge answers casually, not giving anything away. "And her sentence?"
"Originally sentenced to prison time, however was offered a place at Lilydale Foundation Center after her legal representative applied on her behalf."
Glancing over my shoulder again, I meet Dr. Smith's eyes. He gives me a small nod of reassurance.
"Ms. White," the Judge addresses me, my head spinning back to face her. "Please proceed to the stand to be sworn in."
Part of me expects the Bible to sizzle and burn when I put my hand on the cool leather. Following the prompts by the public defender, I link my hands nervously, trying to will myself to calm the fuck down.
"Now, Ms. White," he starts, brown hair perfectly smoothed back. "You began your sentence at Lilydale around a year ago, is that correct?"
"Yes," I answer quietly.
"Can you please tell the court about your time at Lilydale Foundation Center—specifically your treatment program?"
I hesitate as I look over to the prosecution table. I've watched enoughLaw and Orderto know that they are going to try to rip me apart. But as I wait for them to object, to accuse the defender of leading me, I'm surprised when they don't move at all.
It's as if they want to hear my story—want to hear what I have to say.
"Well," I start nervously, twisting my hands in my lap. "When I arrived I was told that the program was set up to help rehabilitate patients so that they could go back to society. We were strictly guarded and had a set treatment program of professional appointments, including mandatory psych sessions." Pausing, I smile tightly at Dr. Smith. "We also had access to a physician who helped manage my chronic pain from previous injuries."
The public defender jumps in, "Injuries that were a result of your father's abuse?"
"Yes," I confirm. "Prior to the fire, I had been to the hospital a number of times for his abuse. Broken bones, removing beer bottle glass from my back, and other things…" I trail off uncomfortably.
"Could you please elaborate on what you mean byother things?" he presses.
My heart beats violently in my chest. But I realize I have a choice here. I can retreat into my mental shell, or I can take this opportunity to speak up for the first time in my life. Everyone here wants to hear what I have to say. Even at the back of the courtroom, reporters are staring at me intensely with notepads, eager for a story. From what I've heard, the whole Lilydale ordeal has created a media frenzy lately.
