THE JEWEL IN THE CROWN
Later on Thursday, after Spencer had suffered through yet another long, horrific court day, Rubens motioned for her and Hanna to speak to him in the hall. Spencer kept her head down, avoiding the reporters who were clamoring just past the courtroom doors. A bunch of their witnesses were there, too. Like Andrew Campbell, who Spencer hadn’t seen in months, but who’d given a sweet testimonial on the stand that she was a good person. Kirsten Cullen was there, too, as were a few of Spencer’s teachers, and there was even a representative from the Golden Orchid essay committee. Spencer had plagiarized her sister’s paper, but it had taken a great deal of fortitude and character to come forward to say that she’d lied. It was not, the representative said, the behavior of a murderer.
Spencer could sense them all there, and she wanted to take the time to thank each one of them. But Rubens was motioning her and Hanna forward. She shot them cursory smiles, then hurried after him.
Rubens led them into a conference room with a long wooden table and a huge oil painting of a snub-nosed man in an old-timey George Washington wig. He sat down and folded his hands, then let out a long sigh.
“I’m going to level with you.” Rubens looked back and forth between the two of them. Spencer and Hanna were sitting as far apart as they possibly could, not looking at each other. “I’ve heard rumors that the DA is bringing in a surprise witness. It’s unusual, since they’ve already presented all their witnesses, but it can be done if someone doesn’t agree to testify until late in the game. It’s someone whom they claim will put the nail in the coffin.”
Hanna wrinkled her nose. “Who would that be?”
“Yeah, aside from Ali’s ghost coming in and saying we killed her,” Spencer added drily, fiddling with a button on her blazer.
Rubens tapped his pen on the table. “I’m not really sure who it might be, but it seems like the DA has something up his sleeve—something not good. I’m wondering if it makes the most sense for you girls to enter a plea bargain.”
Spencer flinched. “What?”
The lawyer didn’t look like he was joking. “We make a deal. It’ll mean a very high fine. And it’ll still mean prison time. But it might mean less prison time.”
Spencer stared at him. “But we didn’t do it.”
“We shouldn’t have to go to prison at all,” Hanna added.
Rubens rubbed his temples. “I understand that. But what you girls are looking for—absolute exoneration—it might not happen. I just want to manage your expectations.”
Spencer sat back. “You’re supposed to prove to the jury that this crime can’t be proven beyond a shadow of a doubt. All the cops have are a tooth and some blood and us at the scene when we weren’t supposed to be there. Emily freaking out, all this stuff about our pasts—it doesn’t make us killers. Why are we giving up?”
Rubens shrugged. “It’s true that the lack of Alison’s body should be important, and I’m going to emphasize that in my closing statements. I’m not giving up, okay? I’m just throwing this out there as an option.” Then he stood. “Think about it, okay? We’re in recess for another few hours. We could end this today.”
And go to prison immediately? Spencer thought, her stomach pulling. No, thanks.
Rubens exited into the hall, leaving Spencer and Hanna alone. Spencer glanced at her old friend, feeling awkward. “This sucks,” Hanna finally mumbled.
Spencer nodded. She stared at the lacrosse bracelet on Hanna’s wrist, wanting to say something. Anything. If only she could reach over and give Hanna a big hug and all would be forgiven.
Then she noticed something tucked into Hanna’s bag. It looked like an invitation. Spencer squinted harder, noticing Hanna’s own name, along with Mike’s. Hanna Marin and Michelangelo Montgomery invite you to their wedding at the Chanticleer mansion this Saturday at eight o’clock in the evening.
It stung, especially because she hadn’t been invited.
Hanna noticed Spencer looking at the invites. Her face paled. “Oh, Spence. Actually—here.” She plunged her hand into the bag and handed her an invite.
Spencer stared at it. Her head shot up. “You don’t have to invite me just because I happened to see this.”
Hanna’s eyes were wide. “No, I want to invite you!” She laughed nervously. “Spence, I want to be friends again. That argument was stupid. We need to get past it, don’t you think?”
Spencer rolled her jaw. She wanted to believe Hanna, but something about what she’d just said didn’t sit right. She couldn’t get their argument out of her mind. Don’t be such a martyr. No one had ever been that mean to her, not even Melissa.