“What is your opinion on the government and the Guild’s current relationship?”
I think of the many people over the decades who have walked this walk, who walk over perfect and walk back Flawed through a courtyard of catcalling and convictions, over cobblestones of prejudice. I think of Carrick, who returned this morning with flour on his T-shirt. I understand why now. We are to be held up to the rest of the world as a mirror of their worst nightmares. Scapegoats for all that is wrong in their lives.
Cameras are in my face, and this feels like the longest walk ever. Microphones, jeering, catcalls, wolf whistles. I feel the muscles in my face tremble and wonder if it’s noticeable. I quickly search the faces in the crowd. They are the faces of normal, everyday people, but filled with loathing. Some are merely interested to see what’s going on; others throw themselves into it. One woman gives me a nod. It’s respectful, and I’m thankful for that one effort.
And then we are inside.
“I see people need convincing of our story,” Mr. Berry says, a little shaken as he brushes down his suit.
Three judges in bloodred robes sit at the head of the room, at a raised level. The majority of the room is laid out with rows of chairs. It is not a typical courtroom because it is in a ballroom of the old castle. There is not a free seat. At the back, people are crushed and standing. I assume they are the press, but on closer inspection, I see that they are all wearing armbands and that they are all Flawed. They stand in twos, broken up by a member of the media or a public spectator in accordance with the Flawed gathering rules.
I sit at my table at the head of all the seating, beside Mr. Berry.
Mom and Dad sit in the front row behind me. There is no sign of Juniper. I look around desperately for Art, hoping for the energy that simply seeing him will give me. No sign of him, which breaks my heart. I see my granddad and I almost weep. He tips his hat.
Bosco asks me to stand.
“Celestine North,” he begins. “You stand before me charged with the offense of being a Flawed citizen of this country, for acting on an error of judgment, and as a result face ousting from regular society. Do you deny or accept this accusation?”
“Deny,” I say, my voice tiny in the large room, and I’m glad it’s over, that it’s the only thing I have to say today, because I fear that my legs, which are shaking so much, will crumple beneath me.
“Very well. We hear your plea and will over the course of your trial hear from witnesses to both the event and your character. Based on that, we will announce our findings. You may leave now, go to your home, and return to us here tomorrow morning at—”
“Just a moment, Judge Crevan,” Judge Sanchez interrupts. “I, and Judge Jackson, would like to put forward the motion that Ms. North remain in our holding cells until the trial is over.”
Bosco looks surprised to hear this.
“We feel that due to the status of Ms. North, and the attention garnered, that her going back to her home, to her life, could give her opportunity or give others opportunity to use her and her situation to their advantage.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of this,” Bosco says angrily. “And I am opposed to the idea. We only detain the accused if they pose a risk of running, and Ms. North is not a threat. It would be impossible for her to disappear given the attention on her.”
“Indeed, Judge Crevan, but given the attention on her, we would like to prevent a circus, a spectacle being made of such a serious case.”
“But if she stays in her home, speaks to no one?”
“This was the same for Jimmy Child, and we know that the parameters put in place were breached.”
Bosco bristles at this, as though it has been directed at him personally. “Ms. North is not Mr. Child.”
“No, but we have learned from his trial. We feel that it is in the best interest of the Guild and the accused to confine this case within the walls of Highland Castle.”
“We need to discuss this in my chamber. This is not something that can just be—”
“I propose it now,” Judge Sanchez says coolly.
“And I favor it,” Judge Jackson agrees.
“And I oppose it,” Bosco says, bewildered. “She is just a child.”
“She will be eighteen in six months, and she is being held away from the other detainees. Only one other accused is in the same chamber as her, an eighteen-year-old detainee, which is the best we can do given the circumstances.”
Bosco is speechless.
“And so it is passed. Celestine North will return to her holding cell for the duration of her trial.” Judge Sanchez bangs the gavel against the block and looks smug.
The room erupts.
Mr. Berry stares at Bosco in a stunned silence, while the rest of the room is in constant movement, spinning.