Chapter 35

Amber washed her face and dried it with the back of her sleeves before looking down and pressing her stomach with both hands. Her eyebrows knitted together as she thought back to what the tattooed inmate said earlier.

Pregnant? She shook her head at the absurdity; her ponytail swinging along as she did. She was sure her bouts of nausea and vomiting were due to some kind of food poisoning.

But didn’t you miss taking the morning pills after consummating with Fabian? A little voice whispered in her mind.

And not just once. You missed the pill twice! The voice grew stronger, eating away her earlier assumption about food poisoning. Gently, her hand cradled her stomach as the possibility of carrying a life within her own body tugged at her heart. It was a strange feeling.

“Sweetheart, it’s time. If you want, we can have a doctor take a look at you after the trial,” the police officer hurried her, snapping Amber back to her senses. She looked up and nodded at the officer.

Trial. This was another dreaded word. Today, after the trial, she would officially be branded a murderer and spend the rest of her life behind bars. And as Amber stepped out of her temporary holding cell, her gaze went back to the cell’s little rectangular window, causing her to pause and wonder if the view from prison would be the same.

***

Fabian paced like his feet were on fire at the hospital lobby, going back and forth like a pendulum as he bit his lips waiting for Anson to emerge from the elevator. A curly-haired receptionist, a young nurse, and a middle-aged patient with an IV drip all froze in their spot at the lobby to admire his perky rear. But Fabian paid them no heed, he was fuming! He was so mad he could feel steam spewing out of his ears.

“Fuck!” he swore under his breath, the veins on his neck throbbing as rage coursed through his body. He tugged at his silken grey tie as if they suffocated him and the women who stared at him from the lobby all sighed, their eyes practically turning into little pink heart shapes.

He had been a fool to think that the youngster would own up to his actions and take reasonability for what he did, and because he was overconfident, he had waited for Anson Banks to come to him. But the young man never did. Time was running out and today was the day of Amber’s trial. This was his last chance to get her brother to change his mind.

Fabian exhaled, his piercing eyes never leaving the lobby elevator. His lips pursed into a straight line as he racked his brain for a possible solution.

‘What if we pay him to confess?’ Fabian’s little devil appeared, swinging its tail and buffing its long red nails at the same time.

‘Surely the brother would have some conscience in him,’ the angel said hopefully on its knees in a praying stance.

‘He’s barely eighteen…teenagers, what do they know about responsibilities? Do you think our Fabian knew what responsibility was when he was eighteen? All he knew was the Playboy magaz—’

Fabian stopped in his tracks, causing both his imaginary deities to slide off his shoulders and disappear into thin air.

Barely eighteen.

DING! The elevator door slid to an open and out stepped Anson and a teary faced Kirk.

“Bingo!” a sudden thought entered Fabian’s mind and his lips slowly curled up into a smile. He had found a way to kill two birds with one stone, he had found the way to save both the Banks siblings.

***

The police van opened to a horde of reporters, each clicking away with their cameras as they all tried to get a worthy picture of the escort who singlehandedly ended the life of Liam Smith.

“Amber Banks! This is George Brown from HVAC! How long were you his escort?”

“Banks, darling! Look here! Did you kill him because he wouldn’t pay you?”

“Sonya Tay from the Morning Daily! Is he your first victim?

The questions were brutal as the reporters snapped away ignoring a squirming Amber who was wedged between two police officers who tried to shield her face.

It was extremely challenging for them to move up the staircase leading to the courthouse with so many reporters swarming around them. But somehow, after what felt like an eternity of steps up the seemingly endless staircase, they finally made it to the gigantic front door of the great white building. Two thick pillars in white stood on each side of the massive front door and a few reporters even scaled the pillars just to get a better picture of Amber.

Then amidst the crazed accusations, a crystal-clear voice rang out from the crowd, “Rebecca Grey from TNN. How do you plead?”

Amber looked up in search of the voice of reason; it seemed that this was the only reporter who did not make any assumptions in her case.

“Amber Banks will answer only to the judge, thank you!” Detective Grant’s voice boomed from the entrance, putting an end to the barrage of questions thrown at her. Quickly, he ushered Amber in through the entrance, closing the door behind them and silencing the crowd once and for all.

Miles away, Fabian got into his car with both Anson and Kirk the policeman. The policeman sat at the back, looking at his phone. He had received a call from Detective John Grant earlier but had chosen to ignore it.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Fabian said as he peered at the policeman through his rearview mirror. In the passenger seat, Anson Banks wiped a tear from his eye.

The policeman closed his eyes and leaned his head on the headrest, feeling his shoulders slumped in defeat as he thought of why he became a policeman in the first place; 'To Protect and To Serve.' Gently he exhaled as he opened his eyes once more, only this time, Kirk the policeman's face was filled with resolute.

“Yes, we’re doing the right thing.”