Episode Fourteen:The First Hearing
788 Words
The razor blade sat on the kitchen table for twenty minutes before either of us touched it.
We both just stared.
The photo beneath it—Jace’s childhood home—was faded but unmistakable. A two-story place with white siding and a slanted porch, the kind of house that could’ve been pulled from any suburban street in America.
But for Jace, it wasn’t just a house.
It was the place where he first learned silence.
Where he buried fear beneath sketchbooks and learned to keep secrets in his chest like coins under the floorboards.
Seeing it now, paired with a weapon, felt like someone had reached into his past and poisoned it all over again.
“We report this,” I said quietly.
Jace nodded, eyes fixed on the razor. “Yeah.”
I carefully slipped it into a plastic bag.
He stayed still, unmoving.
But I could see it—something simmering just beneath his skin.
This wasn’t fear.
This was fury.
That afternoon, we handed the bag to the detective.
She didn’t flinch.
“This is textbook escalation,” she said. “It’s meant to make you second-guess. Meant to provoke you.”
She leaned back in her chair.
“But it also helps your case.”
Jace raised his eyes. “How?”
“It shows intent. Threat. Psychological warfare. This is no longer just a defamation case. It’s harassment. And depending on what we can link to him, maybe worse.”
The next morning, we dressed in silence.
Jace stood in front of the mirror longer than usual.
He wore black slacks, a charcoal button-down, no tie. His hair was tied back, face bare.
“Do I look like someone worth believing?” he asked.
I stepped behind him.
“You look like someone who survived.”
He looked at my reflection in the mirror. Held my eyes.
“Then let’s go prove it.”
The courthouse was colder than I expected.
The fluorescent lights made everyone look tired. The security line stretched down the hall. People filed in like they were reporting for battle.
Our lawyer met us at the front steps.
She nodded once. “Stay calm. You don’t have to say anything today unless addressed. This is mostly about discovery, motions, formalities.”
“What if he’s there?” Jace asked.
“He will be. But you’re not required to acknowledge him.”
Jace inhaled slowly. “Okay.”
The courtroom smelled like dust and nervous energy.
Lucas sat at the other table, dressed in blue, hair combed perfectly.
He didn’t look at us.
But his lawyer did.
A man in his fifties with too-white teeth and a voice like dry paper.
“Mr. Avery has suffered unjust damage to his reputation,” the man said, voice smooth. “He seeks only to restore his good name.”
I gritted my teeth.
Jace didn’t react.
Not once.
Our lawyer stood calmly. “My client has the right to speak his truth. And the evidence submitted shows a pattern of abuse, manipulation, and continued harassment—including documented threats and unlawful surveillance.”
Lucas’s jaw twitched.
His lawyer objected, claiming "character assassination."
The judge nodded slowly. “I will review all submitted exhibits and witness lists. We’ll reconvene for formal testimony in two weeks.”
The gavel sounded like thunder in my chest.
And just like that, the hearing ended.
Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.
Microphones. Flashbulbs. Questions shouted like accusations.
Jace didn’t flinch.
He walked past them, head high, one hand brushing against mine—not holding, not grabbing, just reminding me he was still grounded.
Still standing.
We didn’t speak until we got back to the apartment.
Once the door closed, Jace exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours.
He dropped onto the couch, shoulders sagging.
“You okay?” I asked.
He looked up.
“I thought I’d fall apart. But I didn’t.”
“No,” I said. “You stood tall.”
“I kept thinking... he’d smirk. He’d try to break me with just a look.”
I sat beside him.
“And?”
“He didn’t win.”
That night, Jace painted again.
A self-portrait.
Not photographic.
Emotional.
His figure fractured, abstract—but in the center, a heart formed from gold leaf. Cracked, glowing.
When he finished, he stood back and whispered, “That’s who I was in court today.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him until he stopped shaking.
Two days later, our lawyer called.
“We just received Lucas’s witness list,” she said.
“He’s bringing in someone from Jace’s past.”
She hesitated.
“And Ethan... he’s calling you to the stand.”
- Writer
