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last update2025-04-21 16:01:47

It's 10 o'clock when I reach Jill's law firm; her assistant takes me to her office. It's a corner office with white chairs and a glass table, with various awards and certificates on the wall.

“Mr Salazar, good morning,” she greets

I turn and face her. She's wearing a tailored black suit, her hair packed into a tight, low bun, not a strand out of place.

She radiated confidence and power. She took a seat on her couch and gestured for me to sit on the other side. She cleared her throat.

“Okay, I want you to know that if I'm going to be your lawyer, you're going to have to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; don't leave anything out,”

“That's the only way I can help you,” she added.

“And as your lawyer, anything you tell me is confidential; you can trust me,” she reassures.

“So you'll be my lawyer then?”

"Yes, I will. I'm in. You came to the right person.” she vouched

“This is what I do; this is why I have a $100,000 retainer.”

“I take the cases no one will touch, and I win, and your case will be no different.”

“$100,000?” I exclaim, staring at her wide-eyed

Well, if she can get me out of this, we can figure something out. I can borrow money from Michael, and some friends can take an extra job.

“We'll figure something out,” she promised.

I take a few deep breaths and clean my sweaty palm on my jeans.

"Okay, so let's get right into it." She gets a notepad from her desk and writes something down.

“So could you tell me what happened that night?”

I tell her everything, leaving nothing out.

“So around what time did you get to the hotel?”

“I got to the hotel around 9:37,” she writes it down.

“What time did you leave?” she questions

“I don't know, I think 11 or there about I didn't check the time, I explained.

“So what, time, did you get home, and how did you get home?”

“I took a cab,” I replied.

“What time did you get home?”.

“I don't know,” I confess.

I don't remember it's a bit blurry. I had a few drinks, but I wasn't drunk. If I knew I would be accused of murder, I would have taken note of it hell; I wouldn't have left the house at all.

“But I made a transfer to the cab driver when I got home,” I told her.

I pull out my phone, and the time shows 11:42 as the time of transfer, so I show her that.

“I'm asking about the time so we can establish a timeline. The police are going to be very particular about it, and if this goes to trial, we need to prove you didn't have the time to kill her.”

“It’s important to get a clear picture,” she continues.

“It’s my job to defend you, to make sure that you’re given the best advice possible. I can only do that if you tell me everything.”

“Your story has to be checked out.”

She goes on about getting the case files from the police, knowing what evidence the prosecutor has against me, hiring a blood splatter expert to review the pictures of the hotel room, reviewing CCTV camera footage of the hotel, and hiring a private investigator to dig into Cassidy's life and check out her husband and any other person in her life.

She's saying so many things my head is spinning; it's too much. She senses my uneasiness and offers me a glass of water, which I take. She continues.

She takes out her phone and checks something, then she turns to me.

“Right. Okay, Manuel, this is where we are now. The case has been transferred, and the next court appearance will be the plea and trial preparation hearing. That’s when you’ll enter a plea to the indictment.”

“That’s not for a few weeks, though. Is it?” I question.

“Four weeks away. We’ve got very little by way of evidence from the prosecution at the moment, but they’ll serve more soon. I hope”

“We need to go through all the evidence before that hearing. As I said, you will need to enter a plea at that stage, and if it’s not guilty, then a date will be set for the trial.”

“And if it’s guilty?” I ask,

“Then the matter will be adjourned immediately for sentence.”

“If convicted, you'll be facing life for murder.”.

So if I'm convicted, I'll be in prison forever.

“We need to start working on your defense in case we need it, but for now I'm going to try and file a motion to dismiss, on the claim of circumstantial evidence and see what happens.”

“Go home and get some rest; it's going to be a long couple of weeks,” she admits.

Her assistant comes rushing in and turns on the television. It's an interview with a man, a lawyer, I presume.

Jill tells me his name is Logan Sanders; he works in the DA’s office and is the prosecutor for this case, and just like her, he is very good at his job.

“I am the prosecutor for this case and I will leave no stone unturned to make sure Manuel Salazar is sent to prison for this gruesome act,” he proclaimed.

“It has come to my knowledge that he's being represented by Jill Baker, who defends the worst types of people, but even she can't help him.”

She turns off the television. I face her, my mind and heart racing, and I start circling the room.

“Mr. Salazar, calm down and trust me. He's good, but I'm better. I have never lost a case. I'm not about to start now.”

“Go home, rest, eat, and prepare for anything and everything that might happen. Let me do my job.”

I am about to leave when I turn to her and ask

“How come you didn't ask me whether I did it or not?”

“It's my job to defend you, whether you did it or not. Innocent until proven guilty.”

I turn and take my leave, but then she stops me, hands me her business card, and tells me to call her if I remember anything.

And then I go home to prepare for the fight for my freedom.

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  • 47

    Manuel’s POV I was too stunned to speak, as Jill made the announcement, I just sat there, in the midst of all the commotion, I couldn’t even move. All I could think of were those five words. “Cassidy’s body has been found” So she was really dead, she was gone, gone forever and her now lifeless body was proof. The commotion in the courtroom had died down, Jill had left. It wasn’t until a tear dropped on my hand that I realized I was crying. I didn’t know when exactly the tears started, but I couldn’t stop, it just kept falling and falling. For the first time since this whole trial started today was the first time I cried. Sarah cleared her throat, my attention turned to her. I wiped the tears in my eyes and dragged myself to my feet. I realized the courtroom was now empty. It was just Sarah and I standing. I didn’t even notice everyone leaving. “Where is Jill?” I asked, voice shaky. “She’s gone,” she replied. “There is a swarm of reporters outside, so we are going to h

  • 46

    Jills POVI rushed to the bathroom, after the opening statements and emptied my stomach into the toilet.My opening statement had be longer than I expected, I wanted it to connect emotions to the juror, to the judge, to everyone in the court room.Yes I am a lawyer, but this case, is about storytelling, about who tells the best story.In reality and truth, the case had more holes than a sieve, it didn’t matter anymore thou Cassidy's body had been found. After all these months.Why on the first day of the trial?How could they even tell it was her so fastSomeone was orchestrating this whole thing, this had gone from being a murder case to a drama filled series on television. And In this drama I'm the character being taken for a fool, the one who never sees anything coming, until it does.I rinsed my mouth and tried to calm myself, but my hands wouldn't stop shaking, my heart was slamming into my ribs, it hurt. Sarah came rushing in a few minutes later, with my bag and a bottle of w

  • 45

    Jill stood up from her seat, adjusted her blazer with practiced precision, and walked up to the jury box. There’s something almost ritualistic about lawyers and their blazers; perhaps it’s part of law school, a signal that every gesture counts. She strode forward, silent and measured, and the courtroom fell into a hush so complete you could hear a pin drop.After a beat, she finally spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my name is Jill Baker.”“And I am the lawyer for the accused.”Her eyes swept the room before settling on me. She pointed directly at me, and I met her gaze with a pleading look, a silent appeal begging her to see that I wasn’t the monster the prosecution would soon paint me to be. Without a word, she simply nodded and continued.“The case before us is an unsettling and disturbing one, a tragic reminder that a night of intimacy can sometimes turn into something frightening. My client has been accused of murdering Cassidy Jones, a woman whose future was so bright

  • 44

    Manuel’s POVAfter what happened at the police station, I had called Jill over a thousand times. Texted her too. No answer.I wanted to go to her house, to explain everything, to tell her the truth, the whole truth.But I decided against it. It was better to leave her alone.She was hurt. I understood.Later that night, Sarah texted me. She said she’d be handling my case from now on; relaying information to me from Jill. Told me to be at court at 7:45 a.m. sharp.That’s when I knew. Jill was done with me.She was irate.She wanted nothing to do with me.Now it was the day of my trial.I was standing outside the courthouse, waiting. Waiting for Sarah. Waiting for Jill.To say I was nervous would be an understatement.I was terrified.Fearful.My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My knees felt like rubber.A few minutes later, I saw them.Jill and Sarah walked in Jill didn’t even glance at me. She moved past like I was part of the bench. Like I didn’t exist.I don’t blame her.She walks ahea

  • 43

    Manuel's POV I waited for Jill to get showered, dressed and I waited for her downstairs.She came downstairs in her normal attire; a pantsuit and her louboutin heels. She was dressed in black, ready to kill. The red lip made her look more sexy.She walked past me without a glance, I strutted behind her like a lost puppy. She drove us to the police station in silence.I didn't think it'd be weird if we showed up together. My trial was supposed to have started anyways.We met her assistant, Sarah at the police parking lot. “Tell me everything.” Jill ordered “After I called you to tell you about the judge, one of my contacts at the police station called me to tell me one of the door men at the hotel came forward, the man allegedly saw Cassidy alive after Manuel left. His name is George Wilson” Sarah explained. Jill listened to her attentively, absorbing all the information she could.I just stood there in the side lines, watching.“Why is he just coming forward now, where has been al

  • 42

    I’m jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing. I opened my eyes and the morning light shone through the curtains Stifling a yawn, I grab my phone from my bedside table. And looked at the screen, it was Sarah. I answered and brought it up to my ear“I'm listening,” I say, and she began to talk After a minute or two she hangs up the phone, I don't know how to feel about what she just told me, will it help us or, it give me more time to prepare though, one can never be too prepared for a murder trial.I stretched out on the bed and that's when I realized I was naked. The memories from yesterday come flooding back to me.“Oh my god” I cover my face, blushing. I felt my stomach twistGod. What the hell have I done?I sat up carefully, pressing a hand to my forehead, trying to ground myself. I had been reckless last night, explosive—everything I had sworn I'd never let happen. He is my client. A man accused of murder. A man I was supposed to defend in court, not fall into bed with.

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