Lexi.
Just the name was enough to send Jude spiraling into anger or despair. She did her best never to think about the girl who’d caused all of this, who’d killed her daughter. The girl her son had loved. The girl she’d loved.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” her mother said, taking a seat on Zach’s other side.
The judge cracked his gravel down and called for order.
The gallery quieted.
“Ms. Baill,” the judge said, “you are aware of the crimes with which you have been charged?”
At the defendant’s table, Lexi and her lawyer stood. She looked incredibly fragile and small standing there. Her hair was unkempt and frizzy, out of control. Her cheap black pants needed ironing and were a little too short.
“I am, Your Honor,” Lexi said.
“And on the charge of DUI vehicular homicide, how do you plead?”
Lexi paused. “Guilty, Your Honor.”
There was a moment of stunned surprise in the courtroom and then pandemonium broke out. Both attorneys jumped to their feet, yelling over each other to be heard.
“In my chambers,” the judge said harshly. “Now. You, too, Ms. Baill.”
Lexi followed her attorney out of the courtroom. In their wake, the gallery started whispering furiously among themselves.
Zach turned to Jude. “I don’t get it. What’s she doing?”
Jude sat very still, breathing as best she could, trying to feel nothing. This was some kind of ruse, a way to garner sympathy. She couldn’t have answered Zach if she had known what to say. Finally, the lawyers filed back into the courtroom. The crowd quieted.
The judge sat down and looked at Lexi. “And on the charge of vehicular assault?”
“Guilty, Your Honor,” Lexi said.
The judge nodded. “Ms. Baill, it is my duty to remind you that you have the right to a trial in this case, to have your actions judged by a jury of your peers. You understand that by pleading guilty, you are relinquishing this right?”
“I do, Your Honor.”
“And you understand that a guilty plea means that you will be convicted of this crime without a trial and that you may be subject to immediate sentencing?”
“I do, Your Honor,” she said again, stronger this time.
“Although it is unusual, given the terrible consequences of this case on the community, this court is prepared to put this matter to rest. Ms. Baill, do you have a statement you’d like to make?”
Lexi nodded briefly and rose. “I do, Your Honor.”
“You may go to the podium,” he directed.
Lexi walked over to the podium and looked out over the gallery. Her gaze went to Zach. “I drank, and I drove, and I killed my best friend. My lawyer tells me that guilt or innocence is a question of law, but he’s wrong. How can I atone? That’s the real question. I can’t. I can’t. I can only pay for it and say how deeply, deeply sorry I am. I love … Zach and the Farradays and Mia. I will always love them, and I pray that someday they will hear those words from me and not be hurt by them. Thank you.” She returned to her place at the defendant’s table and sat down.
The judge looked down at some papers spread in front of him. “I have an amicus brief from Mothers Against Drunk Drivers, asking for a sentence that will make an example of Ms. Baill and let other teens know what they could face in similar circumstances. And now, to the family.” He looked up and smiled gently. “I know it’s unexpected, but would any of you like to make a statement to this court?”
Miles looked at Jude. The prosecuting attorney had told them they’d be allowed to speak after the trial, so they’d thought about what they’d say, but it wasn’t supposed to happen until weeks from now.
Jude shrugged, uncertain.
Miles rose to his feet and stood for a moment. Only the slightest tightening of his jaw betrayed the depth of his emotion. Looking at him now, no one in this room would imagine that he had begun to cry in his sleep.
He smoothed the pale pink tie at his throat and went to the podium at the front of the room, looking out at their friends and neighbors. “As I’m sure everyone in this room knows, it has been an incredibly difficult time for my family. There are no words to express the depth of our loss. Still, I’m surprised by Lexi’s plea. I’m sure she was advised not to do so by her counsel.
“I know Lexi. She’s been like a member of our family for the past few years. I know she would undo all of this if she could, and I am not so na?ve as to believe that she is purely at fault and my own children are blameless. I should have forbidden my children to drink instead of remembering my own high school years. I should have been harder on them, perhaps taught them better lessons about alcohol. There is plenty of tragedy to go around here, and plenty of blame. It doesn’t fall on Lexi alone.”