Chapter 39
The rear courtroom door squeaks open, and Ezra Pitts steps inside with his father close behind. The sheriff nudges Ezra, who takes two tentative steps, then pauses to scan the crowd, eyes landing on Genevieve. He continues forward, limping slightly with his head down, shoulders dropped. When he passes me, our eyes meet. I don’t glare this time. I just hold his gaze.
It takes longer than it should for any twelve-year-old to cross the room, but the judge patiently waits for Ezra to climb onto the witness stand. After he takes the oath, Grover’s lawyer starts.
“Hello, Ezra.”
“Hey.”
“You doing okay? I noticed a limp.”
“Objection!”
“Over-ruled. You may answer the question, Ezra.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
“I’m going to ask you some questions, Ezra. Do you understand that you need to tell the truth today?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Were you the person who held Darcie’s face in the snow earlier this week?”
He keeps his head down. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And were you the one who shoved her in the closet?”
“Yeah.”
“What about the discovery of the memes from Oregon? Did you discover them, or did someone else?”
He raises his head. “That wasn’t me.”
“Did someone coerce you into harassing Darcie?”
“Uh, Co-what?”
“I’m sorry, let me clarify. Did someone pressure you to harass Darcie?”
Ezra swallows hard, eyes darting toward his dad, then over to Genevieve, who raises her chin. “I guess so.”
“Who was that person, Ezra?”
He drops his head again. “She said if I did it, she wouldn’t tell my dad about…” He shrugs. “Guess I’m already in trouble, so what’s it matter? It was my Aunt Genevieve. She told me to make it rough for Darcie.”
Grover’s lawyer nods once. “Thank you, Ezra.”
The prosecutor slowly turns, gaze landing on Amelia’s grandmother. He shifts back to the front. “I have no questions, Your Honor.”
“Very well. Ms. Smith?”
“The defense calls Amy Lee Davis.”
Amelia stiffens beside me and grabs my hand. “That’s my mother!”
Her nails dig into my flesh as the courtroom explodes into whispers—not the loud kind, but the kind that ripples from person to person like the wind.
I squeeze back. “Whatever happens, I’ve got you.”
From the back, a stunning woman dressed in slim-fit jeans, low-heeled boots, and a brown leather jacket enters the room. Her footsteps echo down the center aisle, click, click, click. Even though her chin raises like she’s confident, her lip trembles slightly and her hand shakes. Her long black hair swings against her back as she passes us.
Amelia’s face turns pink, eyes bright and wet as she blinks away tears. “I can’t believe she’s here.”
“Raise your right hand. Do you solemnly swear…” The clerk’s voice fades into the background as we focus in on the face of Amelia’s mom. Amy Davis is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen—like naturally pretty—doesn’t even need makeup.
Grover can’t take his eyes off her, and when she finally meets his gaze, his whole face lights up. It’s surprising because I’ve never really seen him smile. Not like this, anyway.
“Please state your full name.”
The woman pulls her gaze back to the lawyer. “Amy Lee Davis.”
“Hello, Amy. Could you please tell the court what your relationship is to the defendant?”
“He’s my brother.”
Amelia gasps, Grover jerks up, and Dr. Davis shifts farther from his mother, like he doesn’t even want to be near the scowl twisting on her face.
“When was the last time you saw or spoke to your brother?”
Amy drops her head, “I…I don’t really know. It’s been a while.”
“Has it been a year? More than a year?”
“More. Probably close to six or seven years.” The light in her eyes dims, and she slides her gaze to Amelia, then quickly looks away.
“That seems like a long time. Was there an argument? Broken trust?”
She holds Grover’s stare. “No. Nothing like that. I thought I was protecting him.”
“Protecting him from what?”
Suddenly, there’s some rustling in the gallery, and it throws Amy off for a second. “There were some false accusations aimed at my brother—and at me too.”
“Can you tell me what those accusations were?”
She takes a deep breath before answering. “Stories were being spread that he was dangerous, especially to children. More than once when we met at the cabin, armed citizens ran him off. The cabin was becoming too dangerous for him.”
“Are you certain that the accusations are false? Could there be a hint of truth to them?”
“I would stake my life on it. William—I know you call him Grover, but he’s William to me—is such a kind soul. He’d never hurt anyone. Ever. He wouldn’t even fight back if one of those men attacked him. I thought if I stopped meeting him, he could continue living in the caves without getting hurt.”
She doesn’t look away, just tilts her head like she’s pleading with him to forgive her. Tears fill her eyes; she’s not the only one caught up in the emotion. There are sniffles all around the room.
Ms. Smith lays her fingers on the railing in front of the witness stand. “You mentioned also that there were false accusations made against you as well?”
Amelia scoots forward but doesn’t let go of my hand.
“Our family moved back to Silver Pines so that I could care for my parents. Doctors had diagnosed each of them with cancer. One pancreatic and one ovarian.”
“I’m so sorry. That must have been so difficult.”
“Yes.” Her lip quivers. “My parents passed within a week of each other.” She drops her chin and closes her eyes for just a second, then lifts her head. “Apparently, that drew suspicion my way.”
“Please explain what you mean.”
Her hands twist in her lap, the same way Amelia’s do when she’s nervous. “An hour before the funeral service, Sheriff Pitts told me he’d received information that caused him to question the circumstances of their deaths.”
“Objection! Your Honor, again—Ms. Smith is making this hearing about everything and everyone other than the defendant.”
“Counselor?”
“Yes, Your Honor. We’re almost there. If I could just…”
“Over-ruled. Let’s get to the point.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
The prosecutor sighs loudly and scoots back his chair.
“Mrs. Davis, you called our office requesting the opportunity to speak for the defendant, correct?”
“Yes.” She smiles slightly. “I got a phone call from a young girl who convinced me it was time that I set things right.”
I straighten my back, and Amelia jerks her head.
“You called my mother?” she whispers. “How did you—?”
I lean toward her ear. “Believe it or not, Mrs. Duncan from the library. I promise I’ll tell you later.”
“What exactly does that mean, Mrs. Davis?”
“I was a coward. Prison was a genuine threat, along with the possibility of my husband being accused as well. And that my daughter would grow up without either parent, so I left.”
Amelia goes completely still beside me. Across the aisle and two rows back, Dr. Davis leans forward, his attention locked on Amy.
“You left your family with no explanation.”
“Yes…” Her breaths come in shudders and her shoulders sag. “Only my mother-in-law knew where I was going.”
Wait. Mrs. Duncan’s voice plays in my mind. What had she said? Something about a connection between Genevieve and…
A small notepad sticks out of my mother’s purse, and I yank it out, scribbling a message to the defense team. “Hey. psst. Mr. lawyer.” The second chair pivots as I lean across the first row and pass him the note.
Questions and answers fade to the background as I will the attorney to get what I said. Come on…
Ms. Smith takes a few steps backward toward the table to read the note. She folds it in half and moves back toward the witness stand. “You said that your mother-in-law knew that you were leaving and where you were going, and that she was the only one who knew. Is that correct?”
“Yes. I didn’t tell anyone else.”
“If I may ask, why did you choose to reveal your plans to her and not your husband?”
Amy licks her lips and swallows. “I didn’t tell her. She came to me, offering to buy the cabin so I would have the money I needed to get a fresh start.”
For the second time today, the prosecuting attorney turns to look at Genevieve Davis, and then, one by one, everyone does.
Genevieve faces forward, chin raised, hands on top of her purse.
It takes a second for the proceedings to reset. Amelia’s eyes are wide as she turns to me. “Oh my god.” She holds her hand to her shaking lips.
“Mrs. Davis,” the defense attorney begins again. “When your mother-in-law offered to buy the cabin, did she tell you why she was helping you?”
Amy’s eyes flick toward Genevieve. “She said she was protecting our family.”
“Protecting your family from what?”
Amelia leans toward me and whispers. “From embarrassment.”
At that exact same moment, Amy answers from the witness stand, “From embarrassment.”
I rub the goosebumps on my arms. It wasn’t so much that they said the same thing, but that they both had believed it. Quiet conversation starts up again and spreads through the gallery. Suddenly, Genevieve rises and, squaring her shoulders, walks out of the courtroom with her chin held high.
Ms. Smith watches her go, then turns toward the judge. “The defense rests.”
Mr. Wayne holds his head in his hands, then runs them through his hair. “The prosecution rests, Your Honor.”
The entire room is silent as the judge informs us she is taking a fifteen-minute recess to assemble her thoughts, and she will return with her ruling. “I’d like to see both counselors in my chambers, please.”
Everyone from the front of the courtroom—judge, lawyers, clerks, and Grover leave through the side doors. Most people stand and stretch, and there’s a lot of chatter around us. Mom and Dad give us some space, telling me they’ll be back after they take Andrew to the restroom.
Amelia lets go of my hand and stands, stretching her neck, probably wondering where her mother went. She and Dr. Davis have both left the room.
“What was on that note?”
“Oh, just something Mrs. Duncan mentioned about the cabin.”
“The librarian again?”
“Yeah. She’s a friend of your mom’s. She’s actually been quite…helpful.”
“Do you think she knew?”
“Knew what?”
“Knew why my mom was leaving?”
I drop my gaze to my boot, pressing the toe into the base of the wooden bench. “The sheriff’s your uncle, right?”
Covering her ears, she sinks back into the pew. “She did all of this, didn’t she? She wanted her to leave.”
My head tilts to the side as I sink into the seat beside her. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Darcie, I don’t know if I can forgive her—I don’t even know if I want to.”
I raise my eyes as my family—led by Andrew—slides back into their seats. He’s wide awake now. “Hi Mealya!” He clings to her neck, and she hugs him back.
“Andrew! How are you?”
He holds her face between his hands. “Are we gonna get to see Gro-ber?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I sure hope so. We’ll find out in a few minutes.”
He climbs off her lap and squeezes in between Mom and Dad just as the side doors open. Grover and his lawyers enter on one side, and Mr. Wayne on the other. A second later, the front panel opens and the clerk calls, “All rise.”
Everyone is on the edge of their seats, waiting for the verdict. Amelia’s eyes are on her parents who’ve just entered from the rear of the courtroom.
She leans over, “They almost look like an actual couple. That’s good, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, squeezing her fingers.
Judge Maddison adjusts her robe and folds her hands, taking a minute to look around the room. When her eyes land on Grover, she begins.
“Mr. Daniels, this court cannot ignore the fact that you took three children into the caves, failing to return them promptly. The law exists to protect children and families. Nevertheless, the court must consider not only what happened, but why it happened.”
Grover nods, frowning.
“There is clear evidence you believed each of these children to be in danger and acted accordingly. You rescued and sheltered them from a blizzard, administered medical care, however primitive, and caused them no bodily harm. However, once you became aware of the identity of your sister’s child, you did not attempt to return her to her family.”
He raises his head.
Today’s testimonies further revealed that this case did not originate in the cabin or the caves, but years earlier. We cannot view Mr. Daniel’s actions apart from the malicious falsehoods and deliberate family deception that preceded them and created what I would call reasonable fear. I find this deeply disturbing and sad.
She didn’t miss anything that any of us said in our testimony. “It sounds okay so far, doesn’t it?” I whisper, but nobody answers.
The courtroom is silent. So quiet that the tick, tick from the clock on the wall prickles my eardrum. I shift in my seat.
“Both sides have agreed to waive a formal trial.”
My hand slips as I grip the railing.
“Therefore, the court sentences you to time already served. You will complete counseling and remain under supervision for one year. Upon successful completion, the matter will be closed.” She bangs the gavel once. “Court is adjourned.”