Beyond The Shadow

Chapter8

I didn’t sleep the rest of that night. I sat on the edge of the bunk with my feet flat on the cold floor. I could hear the pipes knocking behind the walls.

When the guards came for me in the morning, I didn’t fight. They strapped the cuffs on my wrists and chained them to the belt around my waist. Made me look more dangerous than I felt.

I kept my eyes on my boots as I walked. One step after the other. That’s all I had left, putting one foot in front of the other until someone decided I didn’t need feet anymore.

They brought me in through the same side door. Reporters were already waiting they always were. I heard one of them hiss my name like he was spitting on the ground. Another shouted a question I didn’t bother to catch.

Inside, the courtroom was brighter than usual. Sunlight cut through the dusty windows. The judge’s chair sat empty for now, but people filled the gallery. Some curious, some hungry for blood.

I was the show. Always was.

They sat me at the defendant’s table again. My lawyer shuffled in a minute later, tie crooked, eyes bleary. He didn’t even nod at me. He just dropped a stack of papers on the table and flipped through them like they’d magically change into a miracle if he stared hard enough.

“Do I get a fighting chance today?” I asked him. My voice came out calm, almost bored.

He didn’t look up. “Depends if you feel like talking.”

I snorted. “Talk to who? They don’t want the truth. They want a headline.”

He finally glanced at me. I hated the pity in his eyes. “If you give them something, anything. it could buy you time.”

I leaned back in my chair, the chain rattling against the wood. “Time for what? You think Edmund’s gonna walk in here and confess? Francis gonna show up with flowers and say sorry?”

He said nothing. He never did when he knew I was right.

When the judge came in, the courtroom hushed like someone pressed mute on the world. He looked as tired as the rest of us, rubbing his eyes before he put his glasses on.

“Prosecution, continue,” he said without much life in his voice.

The prosecutor stood. Same sharp smile. She held up a folder like she was about to read me my death sentence.

“Your Honour, we’d like to submit new evidence. Communications between Mr Alister Hale and known associates in Medellín. It shows intent to flee the country after the incident. It also ties him to the funds moved through offshore accounts used to pay off local authorities.”

She looked at me like she wanted to see me break. I didn’t blink.

She handed the folder to the bailiff, who passed it up to the judge. He flipped through the pages, sighed like he already knew what he’d find.

My lawyer reached for the folder too but the judge waved him off. “You’ll have your chance. Let’s hear the witness.”

The bailiff called the name. I didn’t catch it the first time too busy counting the seconds in my head. To be honest I always zoned out during these proceedings.I gave up the moment I saw Miguel’s family drop to the floor. But when the door opened and the man stepped up to the stand, I felt it in my gut.

Ricardo.

He looked softer than when I’d last seen him. Softer clothes, smoother face, like betrayal washed him clean. He sat with his hands folded like a schoolboy, but I knew what those hands could do.

The prosecutor wasted no time. “Mr Ricardo, could you please state your relationship with the defendant?”

Ricardo’s mouth twitched like he wanted to smile. “I handled shipments for him. Money, packages, people when needed.”

“And did you witness any conversations about the incident in question?”

He nodded. “Yes. Alister said if the family in the warehouse talked, they’d bring heat to the Sombra business. He said he’d handle it.”

Lies came easy to him. They rolled right off his tongue. I felt my jaw tighten but kept my hands flat on the table. If I did anything it'll make things worse. Not that it could get any worse than it already is.

“And who gave the order?” the prosecutor asked.

Ricardo looked straight at me then eyes calm, voice clear. “He said it came from Mr Edmund Sombra.”

A murmur ran through the gallery. Even the judge raised an eyebrow. The prosecutor didn’t flinch. She turned to Ricardo again.

“But Mr Hale acted alone, didn’t he?”

Ricardo nodded, just enough. “Yes. He said he’d make sure there were no loose ends. He didn’t want to risk bringing heat back to the family.”

So there it was. The perfect setup. Drag Edmund’s name in just enough to make it look like I was covering for myself. Tie the rope tighter around my neck. Make me look like a dog that bit the hand that fed it.

My lawyer leaned toward me, whispering out the side of his mouth. “We could use this. Edmund’s name”

I cut him off with a look. “They’ll never touch him. All they’ll see is me.”

The judge cleared his throat. “Does the defense wish to cross-examine?”

My lawyer stood like he’d rather be anywhere else. He shuffled some papers he didn’t read and stepped up to Ricardo.

“You claim my client acted under orders but then acted alone?” he asked.

Ricardo spread his hands. “He’s the head of security, he's a smart man. He took initiative.”

“Did you see him commit any act of violence yourself?”

“No. But I saw the money move. I heard him promise it would be done.”

It was enough. More than enough. The judge scribbled something I couldn’t see. The jury shifted in their seats like they already tasted my sentence.

When the prosecutor called for a break, I didn’t move. My lawyer sank back into his chair like he’d just run a marathon. I kept my eyes on Ricardo as he stepped down. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t have to. We both knew how this game ended.

They led me back through the hallway. I could smell stale coffee and old sweat from the guards. The cuffs bit into my wrists. At the holding cell door, the guard didn’t push me in right away. He turned the key slow, like he was waiting for me to beg for something.

I didn’t. I stepped in on my own. Sat back down on the same bunk.

I let my head fall back against the wall. Closed my eyes. Saw Hannah again. Her eyes that day behind the glass. Her shaking hands when she slid that paper toward me. Maybe she still had a copy hidden somewhere. Maybe she still had a plan.

I had to hold on to that. Not for me I’d made peace with whatever waited on the other side of this cage. But if she was still fighting, then maybe I could give her something to use. A crack in Edmund’s armor, a thread to pull.

I heard boots in the hall. The guard’s voice barked orders. The cell next to mine slammed shut. Someone down the row shouted my name. I didn’t answer.

Outside these walls, the Sombras still played their game. I just wasn’t sure whose move it was now.

When sleep finally came, it felt more like sinking than resting. My hands curled into fists. I dreamed of warehouses, blood on the floor, a phone that wouldn’t stop ringing. I dreamed of Hannah’s voice saying my name like it still meant something.

The world outside might have already buried me. But in here, I still had a heartbeat. And that was enough for now.