He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault. I was thinking about going to law school, anyway, do this for real.”
“You mean rescuing damsels in distress from foreign jails?” I joke. “You should, you’d be great. But first,” I add, “can I recommend a haircut?”
He laughs. “You should talk.”
“Don’t remind me.” I groan, touching the split, sun-damaged ends of my hair. It seems silly, to care about my appearance when the rest of my life is on the line, but I quickly found out in prison that vanity can almost be a form of hope. You try to keep hold of the person you used to be, with all the same shallow, flimsy worries, because letting them go would be a form of surrender. “I’ll put that on my list,” I tell him. “First, a bath, then, eight hours in a salon.”
“I think you look great,” Lee says, almost shy. Our gaze holds a minute, and then there are footsteps, loud, as Dekker sweeps in. He’s clutching an armful of papers, his assistant scurrying behind.
“And here he is,” the judge says icily. “I believe we have some pre-closing motions to argue. Shall we go to my chambers?”
“A moment, Your Honor.” Dekker deposits the papers and pauses to take a breath. He turns and shoots me a look so full of triumph that it freezes the blood in my veins. “I would like to call a witness to the stand.”
“What’s going on?” I whisper, anxious, but Gates is already approaching the front of the room with Dekker quickly following behind. They argue there for a moment with the judge, their voices too low to reach me. “What’s he doing?” I ask Lee again, but he just shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.”
“But he can’t, can he?” I ask. “The prosecution finished; it’s against the rules.”
“Sometimes, the judge will let them,” Lee watches the front of the room. “If it’s important enough.”
Dekker’s new witness must be, because after another few minutes of hushed argument, Gates returns, downcast. “She’s allowing it,” he says. We all look to each other, not sure what this means. “Is there anything I need to know?” Gates leans in close, his expression like stone. “If there is, you need to tell me right now.”
“I . . . No!” I shake my head helplessly. “You know everything.”
Dekker clears his throat. “I’d like to call Melanie Chang back to the stand.”
Mel?
My head snaps around to watch her enter the courtroom. She’s dressed in a neat blouse and pleated skirt, hair smoothed back under a wide blue headband. Mel takes a seat in the witness chair, and raises her hand to swear the oath.
“Anna?” Gates urges again, under his breath. “What does she know?”
“Nothing,” I insist again, but Gates doesn’t look convinced. I wrack my brain, but nothing comes to mind—nothing that would have Dekker swaggering around so confidently, like the trial is as good as won. “She was off diving with the others, she wasn’t even there that day!”
Gates nods grimly, scribbling a note. “Let’s see what this is about, then,” he says, turning back to the front.
There’s silence, and then Dekker begins.
“You already testified here before, Miss Chang.”
“Yes.”
“But you contacted my office yesterday to retract that testimony.”
“I . . . Yes.” Mel meets my eyes briefly, then looks away.
“So what you told this court several weeks ago wasn’t true?”
“No, it was, I just . . . I didn’t tell you everything.”
Gates leaps to his feet. “Objection! The witness has admitted perjuring herself. Anything else she has to say now cannot be seen as reliable.”
“I’m inclined to agree.” Von Koppel flickers an eyebrow to Dekker.
“I understand. However, given the gravity of the situation, and the fact that the witness voluntarily recanted her statements knowing full well the consequences she’d face. I believe her testimony should be heard.”
I hold my breath until the judge nods. “Carry on, for now.”
My heart sinks. I look desperately at Mel, but her gaze is fixed straight down on her hands, clasped in her lap.
“Miss Chang.” Dekker approaches gently, his tone soft and encouraging. “What did you tell me, when you contacted me?”
Mel looks up. “Anna knew. About the affair, that Elise and Tate were hooking up.”
I freeze.
“She says she didn’t, but she’s lying,” Mel continues, her voice ringing out. “She knew, and she hated Elise for it. She was so jealous, she couldn’t take it.”
I grab Gates’s arm. “It’s not true,” I whisper. “She’s making it all up!”
Gates shakes me off, staring intently at Mel.
“How do you know this?” Dekker prompts her.
“I heard them fighting about it, before she died.”
“But you were on the dive trip, on the other side of the island.”
Mel shakes her head. “This was the day before. In the afternoon. Everyone else was on the beach, but I came back to the house, and I heard them fighting. Anna was screaming and yelling. It was so loud. I stayed for a minute, but I didn’t know what to do, so I left.”
I shake my head, heart pounding. It’s lies, all of it. There was no fight—none. We were back at the house, mixing drinks and hanging out, laughing over some dumb Internet video. That was the night we went out to the bar again—when Elise and I went to go sit on the sand, and I wound up yelling at Mel.
I stop. Is this what it’s about—the things I said to her, about her tagging along? Could she really be so petty, to lie up on the witness stand just to pay me back?
Dekker wheels around. “You heard the defendant fighting with the victim?”
“Yes.” Mel’s lips are pressed together in a thin line, determined. “She was saying, ‘How could you do this to me? I’ll never forgive you. I’ll kill you.’ All kinds of things.”
“I’ll kill you.” Dekker stops. “You heard her say that? Threaten the victim?”
“Yes,” Mel says firmly. “That’s what she said.”
I can’t take this. It’s hard to breathe, like something’s pressing down on my chest. I clutch for Gates again, but he’s staring stonily ahead.
The judge interrupts, leaning down toward Mel. “Do you understand the charges for lying under oath, Miss Chang?”