Adam sat in the tub of now cold water, his knees drawn up to his chest. Mrs. Holden had been more than willing to get a bath ready for him when his father had asked upon their arrival. Adam had taken his time shaving while the water was heating. It had been weeks since he’d even looked at himself in a mirror, and he felt ashamed and somewhat frightened at what he saw. How could everything have gone so wrong? Once the bath was ready, Adam had relinquished his filthy clothes, and his father had gone out to buy him new ones. He hadn’t been back to the university, even to collect his things, and at this point, he was sure they’d been discarded or given away. He was glad now that he’d left his most treasured possessions at home.

Mrs. Holden had left two extra buckets of water in case he needed them, and he’d used those to scrub off most of the grime before getting into the larger bath. The water had felt so good, allowing his tense muscles to ease, but no matter how many times the soothing liquid passed over his body, it didn’t lessen the ache in his heart. She was gone. Deep inside he knew it, and the pain was almost enough to drown him.

He’d studied enough law in his three years to know she was lucky even to have been sent to prison. It didn’t matter to the jury that she’d lived a lifetime of abuse; that when her uncle had been home, both she and her cousin had spent every waking moment in fear. No, most of them hadn’t even believed it to be true. If it hadn’t been for the fresh bruises on her face and arms, there would have been no case at all. She’d looked so alone, so frightened. He’d wanted to go to her, had tried, begged, threatened, but he’d never been allowed to say even one word to her. He’d sat in the court room during the whole trial, as close to her as he could get, hoping that she would feel his presence.

When the prosecutor had asked her if she’d shot her uncle, she’d looked up from the witness stand, the one and only time she’d made direct eye contact with him; her eyes seemed to plead for understanding, then without hesitation, she’d answered yes. There had been an immediate outcry from the spectators, and the judge finally had to threaten to clear the courtroom. That simple confession had filled Adam with a cold sense of dread, but then a new witness had been called to the stand. Adam’s eyes had narrowed as Professor Denton stepped forward, but when it was pronounced that he was testifying on her behalf, Adam sat back, dumbfounded. He’d caught a quick glimpse of Sissy’s face, and she’d looked just as shocked as he felt. When he’d heard the professor’s name called, he’d attributed the man’s words to being the final nail in the coffin. Everyone far and wide knew that he and Sissy’s uncle had been good friends. Adam listened intently to the questions asked by the defense; all geared toward proving that Sissy and Meg had suffered at the hands of Judge Vandem. Although Denton had played things down quite a bit, he’d left the jury with the idea that Sissy had not been in her right mind when she’d killed her uncle, and for the first time since the trial had begun, Adam began to feel hopeful.

The next day, he’d sat with muscles taut and nerves raw as the jury gave their verdict. Of the charge of murder, the defendant has been found guilty. Sissy’s face was white, and Adam stopped breathing as they waited for the judge’s sentence. The judge had taken a moment to straighten the papers on his desk and then clear his throat before turning to the jury, then finally, to Sissy.

Adam had felt blessed relief for the better part of ten seconds when Sissy was sentenced to prison instead of hanging, but his relief had quickly turned to despair when the judge sentenced her to twenty-seven years.

“One for each year your uncle’s been denied, presuming he’d live to the age of seventy-five,” the judge had solemnly declared.

Adam had jumped up, unable to contain himself and railed against the injustice until the bailiff dragged him from the courtroom. His last glimpse of the woman he loved was to see her sitting still, silent, and alone.

 

Adam shook his head trying to rid his mind of the memory, and he shivered as the cold water splashed against his bare skin. A few minutes later, he heard his father return, but he wasn’t ready to face him just yet. Gazing down at his reflection in the water, his mind traveled back once again to the time just before everything had gone wrong. He’d been married. For one glorious night they’d belonged to each other, and the world had felt right. They’d bathed together by candlelight in the little cottage he’d rented for their wedding night. She’d wanted it dark to hide her scars, but he’d caught glimpses of them as the flames flickered, had touched them as his hands slid along her body, had kissed them as his lips caressed her. He’d toyed with a small scar on the top of her ear, and though he wondered, he didn’t ask her how it had happened. On that night, he’d wanted her thoughts to be only of his love for her.