"Rose," she whispered trying to get her attention.

But Rose didn't look up.

"Ryan," she said, taking his arm again. "Can't you do something?"

"Listen, Emily, I'm as stunned as you are. And I'll do what I can with the judge. But right now I'm going to go see your father. Just... please try and keep yourself together. I'll stop by later."

An officer came and took her away before she got a chance to talk to Rose.

Back in her cell, Emily paced the floor with spurts of weeping and angry prayers until they came to inform her she had a visitor.

"Well, it's done," Rose groaned when Emily entered the visiting room, "they booked Father, and put him in jail."

Emily slumped to a bench with her head in her hands, sobbing. "I never, never should've tried to find him."

"Oh, shit," Rose moaned, taking a seat next to Emily. "Now look what've I done." She took Emily into her arms, kissed her head, and squeezed her. "Listen, you did the right thing by coming to us. We're your family."

"But if it weren't for me, he wouldn't be in jail."

"And if it weren't for Father, you wouldn't be in jail. In fact, you wouldn't be anywhere. Listen, Emily, he's the one that got your mother pregnant. And besides, who's to say the police wouldn't have caught up with him sometime in the future. The important thing is that he didn't rape your mother. He didn't even know about the warrant. If he had, he would've come back and taken care of it, because that's who he is."

Rose gave Emily another squeeze. "Come on, Sis. Let's get something to drink and talk about what we'll do when all of this is over. It will be over, you know."

"Yeah, well, right now it doesn't seem that way. So... you think we could write Father a letter?"

"You know what? That's the best idea I've heard in a long while."

The girls spent the rest of the visiting hour writing a letter to their father. And when it was time to leave, Rose took Emily's hand. "I've lived with Father all my life, and I know that right now he's more concerned about you." She waved the letter. "This is all he needs."

"Rose, when you see him, will you tell him how... how much I love him?"

"I think he knows that, but I'll tell him anyway."

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE.

The courtroom was packed with reporters from radio and television stations, a number of newspapers, along with the curious. An overflow of people waited outside.

Ryan gave Emily a word of encouragement then stood, buttoning a new jacket. His hair had been trimmed. It looked as if he'd lost a few pounds. He passed a smile over the jury, nodding to the judge. "Your Honor, I'd like to bring Emily Rezell to the stand."

Emily's knees trembled as she walked to the front, took her oath and sat. The moment had arrived for her to tell the world the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. She wiped the sweat from her palms on her skirt then lifted her eyes to Ryan.

"Miss Rezell," he said, "would you state your full name for the record, please?"

"Emily Alexis Rezell."

"Now, would you mind telling the court what to you is the most important things in life?"

"Well. Uhm. My family... My family's very important. Truth... Truth is very important... Kindness, and understanding ."

"Thank you, Emily. Thank you. So now, let me ask you. Did you take care of the men in your family?"

"Yes."

"You not only cooked, cleaned, and washed clothes, but you planted gardens, canned, milked cows, even worked in the field sometimes, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Did you mind taking care of them?"

"No, for the most part not."

"How'd it make you feel, working day in and day out?"

"Uhm... I-I guess it made me feel like, well, like I was worth something."

"How long did you know Claude Thorn?"

"...Ever since I can remember."

"What kind of a relationship did the two of you have?"

She took a breath and pulled her arms in. "...Not so good, most of the time."

"Emily. I want you to tell the court about the time your relationship with Mr. Thorn took a drastic turn. To begin with, how old were you?"

Emily took a deep breath, squeezed her hands into a ball, digging her fingernails in. "I was thirteen the first time it happened. I-I was in the barn up in the loft, playing with some kittens when Claude...When he came up and stood in front of me all glassy-eyed, like... like he'd gone mad."

"And then what happened, Emily?"

"I-I remember wrapping my arms around the kittens because I thought he was going to take them away and I'd never see them again. I must've passed out because the next thing I remember was that I was on the floor, and he was... He...." Tears were flowing down her cheeks now, and she reached for a tissue. "And...and he...he was..."

"He was what, Emily?"

"He was on top of me... and..."

She wanted to stop, but she had to let them know.

"I didn't know what was happening, All I knew was that something was ripping my insides apart." Her shoulders shook, and tears flowed, but she wanted to finish. "I... I couldn't move, couldn't fight him off. I screamed, but he put a hand over my mouth."

She covered her face, and sobbed.

Ryan stepped over and placed a hand on her arm. "You'll be done soon," he said quietly. "I'm proud of you."

When she calmed, Ryan stood back and looked at the jury. "Emily, we know how difficult this is for you. But would you please tell the court if this ever happened again."

"Yes, it did."

"How many times?"

"Many times, for years."

"Why didn't tell your family, your grandfather?"

Her throat was dry and she took some water and set the glass down. "Because... because he said he'd kill me if I told. B-besides, I didn't think anyone would believe me."

She looked down at her hands, at the fingernail marks on her skin. She wondered what would have happened if she'd told Daniel.

Ryan stepped over, put a hand on her arm again, and then took his seat.

"Emily," the prosecutor's voice broke through the haze. "Tell me when exactly did you decide to kill Claude?"

She looked up at him, not sure that she heard right.

"When did you decide to kill Claude?"

"I-I didn't decide. It just happened. When I tried to get away... he was coming at me, and he tripped, and then..."

"Did you hate Claude?"

Emily didn't know what to say. She probably did hate him... at least hated what he'd done.

"You mentioned earlier that truth was important to you. Truth? Come now, Miss Rezell, maybe I should define for you what truth is: Truth is that you killed Claude Thorne in cold blood because you hated him. Truth is you hated him because he meant to keep the cat population down. Truth is, Emily Alexis Rezell, that you hated him because he tried to keep you in line."

Ryan jumped to his feet. "This is ridiculous, Your Honor. This man's badgering the defendant. She's already made it very clear what happened. I hate Claude myself."

The judge nodded to Ryan, "Sustained," then glanced at the jury. "Scratch that from your notes."

"Okay, then tell me, Miss Rezell," the prosecutor continued, "when you conveniently slipped off to San Francisco, where was the first place you stayed?"

"I met a lady in a restaurant and..."

"I didn't ask who you met. I asked where you stayed when you got to San Francisco? What in dictionary terms is the place called?"

"A... a brothel."

"And the name of the brothel was..."

"Th-the Palace."

"And how long were you there?"

"Uhm... about a month."

"Thank you. That will be all."

He glided back to his seat, and Ryan stepped forward.

"Emily, tell us about the day you were taken to the Palace."

"Well, when I went to this restaurant for lunch, a waitress told me she had a job for me, and a place to stay. She didn't tell me it was a brothel."

"How did you feel when you realized what kind of place it was?"

"I was shocked, and I thought of leaving. I mean, it wasn't somewhere I would've chosen to go."

"And then when you left the brothel, what kind of job did you have?"

"I was a nanny for two children, like Rose said."

"And didn't you do your best to provide a loving environment for them?"

"Yes, yes, I did."

"Thank you, Emily."

There was a short break, and then when it was time for the closing statement, the prosecutor was merciless. He boldly stood in front of the jury, telling them Emily had been a spoiled teenager who had wanted her own way, fostering so much hate she was willing to stab a hard-working man to death with a pitchfork.

"And then after he's dead, not before, she accuses him of rape. Do you want to send a cold-blooded murderer out where she can do it again? I certainly hope not."

Ryan was calmer and more confident than Emily had ever seen him. "I personally have never had as much confidence in one of my clients as I have in Emily's innocence. You heard it from her lips, and there really isn't much else to say, except that I know she is innocent. I believe she was raped. I believe Claude tripped, and fell, and was the cause of his own death. He was about to rape Emily. Thank God, it never happened again. After everything Emily has been through, you, the jury, have a chance to right the wrong that was done to this young woman."

The room was still as Ryan took his seat. The judge dismissed the jury, and they filed out for deliberation. Everyone kept their voices low as they left for a break, or sat waiting for the verdict.

Half an hour later, the jury returned, and everyone quickly filed back to their seats. There wasn't a sound as one of the jury members stood and faced the court.

"On the count of Murder One. We, the jury, find Emily Alexis Rezell not guilty."

Cheers exploded, and Judge Grosslyn stood, nodding to Emily, telling her that she was free to go.

Those in the courtroom jumped to their feet for hugs, and laughter, happy tears, and congratulations. Emily flung her arms around Ryan. "Thank you... thank you for everything."

Rose fought her way over and grabbed her in a bear hug. "Let's get out of here."

Emily looked back at Ryan.

He gave her arm a squeeze. "You're free to go, young lady. I'll bring your things over in the morning."

Rose took Emily by the elbow and guided her through the crowd of curious onlookers and reporters.

"Please, everyone," Rose said, "you heard her story. Now please give her some privacy."

"How do you feel about walking out a free woman?" someone said.