Chapter 8: The Hearing
The preliminary hearing was six weeks later.
Daniel came with me.
We sat in the third row.
The courtroom was smaller than I expected — pale walls, fluorescent light, the low sound of papers being shuffled and lawyers leaning in to speak quietly to their clients.
Sienna sat at the defense table in a grey jacket I didn't recognize.
Her lawyer was a woman in her fifties who moved through the room with the practiced efficiency of someone who had done this hundreds of times and felt nothing either way.
Mason sat at a separate table with a different lawyer.
He didn't look at me when I came in.
Sienna did.
It was brief.
She turned her head, found my face, and held it for two or three seconds.
Her expression was not what I expected.
It wasn't defiance.
It wasn't a performance of remorse designed for the room.
It was something quieter than either of those things.
Then she turned back to face the front.
The judge entered.
Everyone stood.
Everyone sat.
The prosecutor read the charges.
Conspiracy to commit first-degree assault.
Solicitation.
Identity fraud.
Financial fraud.
Wire transfer fraud.
Sienna's lawyer entered a plea of not guilty on her behalf.
Mason's lawyer did the same.
The prosecutor then addressed the cooperation agreement.
Sienna had provided full testimony regarding Royce's network — four prior cases across three states, two of which were being re-examined as potential homicides.
In exchange, the prosecution was recommending reduced sentencing pending the outcome of the full trial.
The judge asked Sienna directly if she understood the terms of the agreement.
She said yes.
He asked if she had entered the agreement voluntarily.
She said yes.
He asked if she had anything to say at this stage.
Her lawyer touched her arm.
Sienna looked at her.
Then she looked at the judge.
"I'd like to say something," she said.
Her lawyer's expression shifted slightly.
They had not planned this.
"Go ahead," the judge said.
Sienna turned in her seat.
Not toward the judge.
Toward me.
The room noticed.
"I know this doesn't change anything," she said.
"I know there's nothing I can say that makes it different from what it was.
But Caleb should know — when he's old enough — that his father is a good man.
That part was never a lie." She paused.
"That's all."
She turned back to face the front.
Daniel leaned close to me and said nothing.
He just put his hand briefly on my shoulder and then took it away.
The judge moved on.
The hearing lasted forty-seven minutes.
At the end of it, a trial date was set.
Bail conditions were confirmed.
Mason was remanded without bail based on the flight risk assessment.
Sienna was released on conditions that included no contact with me or Caleb.
We walked out into the grey morning light.
Daniel buttoned his coat.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"She meant it," he said.
"What she said in there."
"I know."
"Does that make it harder or easier?"
I thought about it.
"Neither," I said.
"It just makes it true."
We walked to the car.
I had to pick Caleb up from my neighbor Ruth's house by noon.
He had been staying with her on mornings when I had appointments, and she had taken to sending him home with small containers of homemade cookies that he treated as serious treasure.
I thought about him sitting at Ruth's kitchen table right now, probably telling her about the very large dog from his dream.
I thought about 6:47 a.m.
and the back road and what Royce had driven three times.
I thought about Sienna's face when she turned around in that courtroom.
May you like
I got in the car.
I took the highway home.
