Accused (Ganzfield) by Kate Kaynak Read Free Book Online Page A

as my own—a short-sleeved shirt and shorts. I think I might’ve packed them for Aruba—back in my previous life—but I no longer remembered. The too-loose shorts threatened to slide off my protruding hip-bones. One of the women tied something between two of the back belt-loops, tightening the waist enough to keep me covered.
    I watched the world flash by from inside the prisoner transport. Window bars framed trees that were already changing to vibrant oranges and yellows. I’d forgotten about bright colors. I stared out the window and shivered through the three-hour drive to Boston.
    I heard nothing as we drove into the city. Mentally dead—which was kind of ironic for such a college town. How long had I been in that windowless basement cell? It had been several weeks, at least. Maybe months. Trevor and I had gone to the airport in mid-July, so the changing leaves meant it’d been…
    They meant I had no clue how long I’d been held prisoner.
    The transport vehicle pulled up to the back of the federal court building. Fences and guards kept people away from the prisoner entrance. A salt-tinged breeze wafted off the unseen water as someone opened the door. Guards gripped my upper arms again, making the plastic handcuffs dig into the pasty-pale skin around my wrists.
    They left me in a room barely large enough for its small wooden table and chairs. I sat without thinking and stared at the far wall. The sound of the door opening made me bang my knee on the table.
    Coleman’s eyebrows rose when he saw me. I had no idea what he was thinking, and trying to hold his gaze seemed like too much effort. He closed the door and took the chair across from me. His hand started for my shoulder, paused, and then dropped to the table with a gentle thud.
    “Maddie, I’m going to get you out of here today. We have to go through some of the motions first, though, because I want to make sure double jeopardy will apply. That way, no one will be able to charge you with these crimes again.”
    I tried to process what he’d said and gave him a nod. The concepts barely registered and the information he’d given me only moments ago faded into a dull muddle in my mind. Coleman got up and signaled at the door, and two bailiffs came in and removed my handcuffs. They gripped my arms as prisoner-handles again and escorted me into the nearly-empty courtroom.
    I heard familiar voices gasp as I was led to the defendant’s table, and then suddenly I was in Trevor’s arms. It was as though sunlight had broken through endless clouds—fingers of light touched my soul. I closed my eyes and took a shuddering breath, drawing in the clean, woodsy scent of him. My arms weakly encircled his waist and I just held him tight, feeling his heartbeat against my cheek. I felt alive for the first time in heaven knew how long.
    Trevor pressed his face into my hair. He was shaking. Was he upset? Relieved? Chilly? Without dodecamine, I had no way to tell… and no way to ask. I tilted my face up to see his. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and he looked older, more serious.
    Grim.
    A hand clasped mine. Even before I saw her, I knew it was my mom. She gasped and gripped harder—painful in her intensity—and I knew she was getting a mental mindful. I tried to frame a thought to her. Please, don’t say anything .
    “Oh, honey.” Her eyes welled with tears. “Oh, honey, no. Oh, no.”
    Trevor’s arms tightened around me as he gave her a questioning look, but she kept her eyes on me and didn’t tell him what she’d felt in my head.
    The prosecutor watched our little group from behind the opposite table. He lifted his chin challengingly to Coleman. “I thought this was a closed session.”
    “You don’t mind if Ms. Dunn’s family is here, do you?” His voice resonated—it wasn’t really a question. I’d forgotten I could hear charm-voice, even when I was off dodecamine.
    “No, I guess I have no objection.” The prosecutor shrugged and went back to his