Nadia's POV
The jury hated me.
I could see it in their eyes as I stood before them in Courtroom 7, my closing argument dying in the stale air between us. Twelve faces. Twelve people who'd already decided that Dominic Ashford was guilty of murder.
They weren't wrong about him being a monster. Just wrong about this particular crime.
Ladies and gentlemen, I said, gripping the wooden podium so hard my knuckles turned white, the prosecution wants you to believe that my client walked into Federal Prosecutor Linda Morrison's home and shot her in cold blood. But what they haven't proven, what they can't prove, is that he actually did it.
Juror number three, the retired teacher in the front row, actually rolled her eyes.
My stomach twisted. Seven years as a public defender, and I still wasn't used to losing before I even finished talking.
The fingerprints on the gun? Explainable. The security footage? Inconclusive. The motive they've presented? Pure speculation. I looked each juror in the eye, one by one. Reasonable doubt isn't just a legal phrase. It's your duty. And there is doubt in this case, whether you want to see it or not.
I sat down next to Dominic. He didn't look at me, just stared straight ahead with those cold gray eyes that had probably ordered a hundred crimes I didn't want to know about.
Nice try, Counselor, he murmured. Almost sounded like you believed it yourself.
Everyone deserves a defense, I whispered back. Even you.
His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. That idealism is going to get you killed. He paused, leaning closer. Or save us both.
Before I could ask what that meant, Senior Prosecutor Marcus Webb stood up for his rebuttal.
Marcus had been my mentor since my first day at the Public Defender's office. He'd taught me how to pick juries, how to cross-examine witnesses, how to survive in the brutal world of Metro City's courts. Watching him destroy my case felt like being stabbed by my own father.
Ms. Cross gave you a compelling speech about doubt, Marcus said, his voice warm and reasonable. The jury loved him. Everyone loved Marcus Webb. But let's talk about certainty. We are certain that the defendant's fingerprints were on the murder weapon. We are certain that security cameras placed him at the victim's home the night she died. We are certain that Linda Morrison was investigating his criminal empire, and that she was about to bring charges that would have destroyed him.
He walked toward the jury box, and I watched them lean forward, hungry for his words.
Reasonable doubt is your duty, Marcus continued. But so is justice for a murdered woman. A prosecutor who died doing her job. A mother who'll never see her children again because this man he pointed at Dominic without even looking at him, decided her life was worth less than his freedom.
The jury was nodding. Actually nodding.
I'd lost. Completely.
Judge Catherine Rivers called a fifteen-minute recess. The jury filed out, and I started packing my files with shaking hands. Another impossible case. Another defendant who'd spend the rest of his life in prison, guilty or not.
You did good work, Ms. Cross, Judge Rivers said as she passed my table. She'd always been kind to me, one of the few female judges who remembered how hard it was to be a young woman in this courthouse. Some cases can't be won. That doesn't mean they shouldn't be fought.
Thank you, Your Honor.
As the courtroom emptied, I noticed my best friend Sarah Chen sitting in the back row. She was a detective with Metro PD, and we'd been friends since we were both starting outme as a baby public defender, her as a rookie cop. We'd helped each other survive this brutal system.
But today, she looked wrong. Uncomfortable. Almost guilty.
I'll walk you to your car, she said when I reached the hallway.
I need to see Marcus first.
Nadia
Five minutes. Meet me at the parking garage?
She hesitated, then nodded. Be careful. Please.
The warning was strange, but I was too exhausted to think about it.
Marcus's office was on the third floor. When I knocked, he called out, Come in, Nadia. I've been expecting you.
He sat behind his massive desk, looking every inch the successful prosecutor who'd win this case and probably become District Attorney next year. But his smile was warm, fatherly.
You gave them a hell of a closing, he said. Sat down, kiddo.
I sank into the chair across from him. I lost.
You did your job. That's all anyone can ask. He leaned forward, hands folded. After this trial's over, we should talk about your future. The DA's office could use someone with your skills. Someone who fights for every client, even the lost causes.
My heart jumped. The DA's office? That was validation I'd been chasing for seven years.
I'd like that, I managed.
Good. Now go home. Get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.
The parking garage was dark and mostly empty. Sarah was waiting by my car, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
You okay? I asked.
I need to tell you something She stopped, then just pulled me into a tight hug. Be careful, Nadia. Please. Just... be careful.
Sarah, you're scaring me.
I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. She let go, and I could have sworn there were tears in her eyes. Just promise me you'll be careful.
Okay. I promise.
I drove home through the warehouse district, my mind already on tomorrow's cross-examination strategy. I didn't notice the black SUV following three cars behind me.
Didn't see it pull up alongside me at the red light on Fifth and Morrison.
Didn't realize anything was wrong until my car door was yanked open and something sharp pressed against my neck.
Don't fight, a voice said. You'll only make it worse.
I fought anyway. Screaming, clawing at the man's face, trying to reach my phone. But whatever he'd injected into my neck was already working. The world tilted sideways. My vision blurred into streaks of light and shadow.
Through the haze, I saw him. Dominic Ashford, sitting in the SUV's back seat, watching me with those cold, calculating eyes.
I'm sorry, Ms. Cross, he said, his voice the last thing I heard before darkness swallowed me whole. But we need to talk about your future.
The SUV's door slammed shut.
And the world disappeared.