Here's the next installment of our Metallum Nocturne story. If you need to catch up on any of the previous episodes, click here.
Episode Fifty
The trial extension wasn't granted, which meant she was out of time. Claire received the message from Lamar that evening. She'd stayed in her room after getting back and cleaning the blood from her hands. Dawn stayed with her, distracting her from the awful events by watching their favorite anime while curled up on the bed.
When she received a message from Elle that she was outside the Hall, they snuck out through the maintenance tunnels and met in the alleyway. She held up her phone, showing a picture of a beefy guy with a Mohawk.
"You know this guy?"
Claire nodded.
"Yeah, that's Mark. He's a fifth-year like us," said Dawn.
Claire couldn't speak because she'd thought he'd been a friend.
"That's Mara's boyfriend. My source was able to get some recent pictures out of the phone's memory, there's a bunch more but they're not wearing clothes in most of them," said Elle.
"I could fucking kill him," said Claire, which brought a concerned reaction from both her friends. "Not actually, but you know."
"He must have switched out the sign-in sheets after the accident and before anyone noticed," said Dawn.
"What are you going to do?" asked Elle.
"Confront him," said Dawn. "We'll make him admit he did this to Claire."
Elle pursed her lips. "I'd love to believe that he would come clean, but if he switched the papers, why would he want to admit fault now?"
Dawn shook her hands. "Doesn’t this help her case? Can't she show this to the jury? Or get him to testify?"
"We got the picture through illegal means," said Elle. "And based on what happened earlier today, the Blocks have no real interest in justice. This whole thing has been a ploy to blame the Halls and gain traction for their campaign."
"It's not just for them," said Claire. "They have impatient backers. Annette seemed more worried about them than what was happening in that room. But thanks for getting this. I need to take this to my lawyer."
Before she could head down the alleyway, Elle grabbed her arm. She had a firm grip.
"There are paps everywhere. You won't make it half a block before you get swarmed."
"I need to talk to Lamar."
Dawn brightened. "Let me cause a distraction."
"Like what?"
"I'll put on one of your workout hoodies and those ripped jeans you love. I'll run out and act like I'm trying to avoid them," said Dawn.
"Worth a shot."
Her friend disappeared inside to change while they crept to the edge of the alleyway, lurking behind a rusted dumpster.
"Should you be here?" asked Claire. "If you're seen with me, it'll ruin your impartiality."
"Trying to get rid of me?" smirked Elle.
"No, I'm just—"
"I'm fucking with you, Claire," she said, reaching out and brushing her arm with her fingertips. "And I'm completely, one hundred percent partial to your cause. You couldn't have more bad luck if you'd shot up a mirror factory."
"There has been some piece of good luck in all this."
Elle tilted her head.
"You."
"Me?"
"We wouldn't have met unless all this had happened. That's one good thing."
Elle stared at her pristine white shoes while she wrestled with her words. She glanced up, almost in pain, before she said, "Oh, crap. She's running."
Claire turned in time to see a mob of paparazzi chasing after a pretty good facsimile of herself. She grabbed Elle's hand and ran the other way, heading across the street and ducking into a corner bodega.
"I'll call a taxi," said Elle, lurking in the doorway.
When it arrived, they rushed into the back before anyone spotted them. Claire texted her lawyer to let him know they were coming. He was waiting for them at the door when they arrived.
"I wasn't expecting you to bring your own press contingent," said Lamar, holding it open.
Elle offered her hand. "Elle Dark. I'm here as Claire's friend, not a reporter, but if you want me to leave, I totally understand."
Claire grabbed her hand, gripping tight. "No way. I need your support."
"Unusual, but nothing about this case has been normal thus far. No reason to start now," said Lamar, chuckling.
"Love your stuffies," said Elle, craning her neck in all directions.
"Stuffies? That's one way to look at them. Thanks, it's a bit of hobby and a bit of a side hustle." He plopped behind his desk. "Now what was so important you had to rush over here?"
Claire slid the picture across the desk, eliciting a low whistle from her lawyer.
"They were dating?"
"More than that," said Claire, then explained what she'd found in Mara's room.
"It's inadmissible in court," he said. "And it would look like we were picking on a dead girl if we brought it up."
Claire put her arms on the desk as she leaned forward. "You're not going to do anything?"
"I didn't say that. Given how you acquired that picture, I can't enter it as evidence, but I can subpoena Mark and put him on the stand."
"But there's no way he'll admit that he was the one that did it, right?" asked Claire.
Lamar leaned back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile. "Remember when I told you I would take this case despite the long odds? I said the only way we're going to win was if we found the right angle. This is that angle. Let me worry about Mark. You go home and relax. You were nearly murdered this morning, I'm shocked you're up and around."
The impact hadn't hit her yet. She'd killed three people with a knife, but she didn't want to dwell on it. That way led back to Umbra.
"Come on, Elle. Maybe we could catch a movie? Anything to distract me."
"Actually, I need to get back to the office," said Elle, screwing up her face. "I have an article or two to write for tomorrow's paper."
"Before you go, Miss Dark," said Lamar, his mouth shifted to the side, "could you and I have a brief conversation?"
"I'll see you at the trial, Claire. Don't beat yourself up," said Elle. "I'll call you a taxi."
"No, it's cool. I'll walk, since I don't have to worry about the Terrors anymore."
It was two wards away from Lamar's office back to Metallum Nocturne. The walk took hours. The sun had set by the time she got back to her Hall. Claire strolled past the mob of reporters and paparazzi, ignoring their questions. By the time she reached her room, a soul-crushing exhaustion hit and Claire passed out on her bed.