Six Weeks Later: The Final Hearing
“Please, don’t go through with it,” I pleaded, my eyes fixed on Ethan as we stood together just before the trial. For almost six weeks, he had refused my visits, and this was the first time I’d seen him. He looked thinner, worn down by time in custody.
“You look pale. Are you okay?” Ethan asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
I shook my head. How could I be? I had been feeling sick constantly, throwing up, dizzy, and suffering from headaches.
“Are you eating well?” Ethan’s voice softened. “Isn’t Jason taking care of you?” He asked and
I frowned at the mention of Jason. “We broke up,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. After Ethan turned himself in I couldn’t bear be with Jason, i was always sad around him, never giving him the time and attention he deserved, hence i had to break up with him, but he didn’t takes it well, he insisted he could wait for me to heal and feel better, but i knew from the bottom of my heart that I could never love him. Not the way I loved Ethan and I would only make him miserable.
Ethan’s eyes widened as I mentioned the break up but he said nothing, just stared at me in silence. “Emily, I need you to be happy,” he finally said, his tone filled with sadness.
I took a shaky breath. “If you want me to be happy, you should get out of here and come home with me.” I pleaded.
He smiled faintly, shaking his head. “I’m no good for you, Emily. You deserve better.”
I gripped his hand tighter. “You’re all I want, Ethan.” I sai.
He looked at me, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Go home, Emily. I don’t want you at the hearing,” he pleaded.
“No,” I replied firmly. “I’m going to be there, right until the end. And I’m praying they’ll see you’re not a criminal, just… a mad man, a mad man i love” I tried to force a smile, but my heart ached.
Ethan chuckled softly. “It’s time,” a police officer interrupted, stepping closer. I nodded, letting go of his hand as they led him away through the side door.
As I made my way into the courtroom, it was packed with reporters and onlookers, all eager to see the rich and famous Ethan Marcel behind bars. The judgmental whispers filled the room, and I hated how quickly people turned on him, people who once admired him now fed the growing rumors.
I sat down in the seat my friends had saved for me, but as I did, a wave of dizziness hit me. The fatigue was overwhelming. I had been feeling like this for weeks, but I blamed it on stress and barely eating. My focus drifted in and out as the trial began. The whole process felt like a blur. Ethan had sabotaged himself from the start, confessing to everything and offering up all the evidence they needed.
I gripped the edge of my seat as the final moments of the trial approached. The judge’s voice cut through the room.
“The court finds the defendant guilty of murder, smuggling…” the charges went on, each word like a punch to my chest. Jennifer and Rose squeezed my hands, but I barely felt it.
I looked at Jennifer, tears streaming down my face. My mind went blank, the world fading into a dull hum. “What?” I asked, struggling to grasp reality as it slipped away.
“The court hereby sentences the defendant to death by electric chair,” the judge declared.
I gasped, the weight of the words crushing me. My head felt light, the room spun, and before I knew it, everything went blank.
***
I woke up to the beeping of a heart monitor, my body weak and tethered to an IV drip. Jennifer, Rose, Denise, and Irene were by my side, their faces filled with worry.
“What happened?” I mumbled.
“You fainted,” Jennifer replied gently.
“For how long? Was it all a dream?” I asked, hope fluttering weakly in my chest. Maybe I had imagined it, maybe Ethan was still free, far away from this nightmare.
“Just a few minutes. At the courthouse,” Jennifer explained, and my heart sank as reality crashed back in. Tears welled up in my eyes.
“So, it’s true?” I sobbed. “Ethan is going to be killed.”
As I wept, the door opened, and a doctor walked in. “Ma’am,” she said, her tone soft but serious. Everyone turned toward her as I wiped my tears, trying to compose myself.
She stepped closer, her gaze full of concern. “Ma’am, with your condition, you really need to take better care of yourself. This is a very critical time, especially considering the number you’re carrying.”
We all stared at her in confusion. “What condition?” Jennifer asked.
The doctor paused, looking directly at me. “You’re pregnant,” she announced.
And My heart sank.