Maxine's POV

Today is my trial. The courtroom was suffocating.

It wasn’t just the thick tension in the air or the way the reporters whispered behind their notepads. It was her, A’ishah.

Sitting across the room, her back straight, her gaze cold, her lips pressed into a firm, unyielding line.

Not once had she looked at me, until now.

Our eyes met, and I felt the weight of everything between us crash into me all at once. I searched for something in her gaze. Anger, sadness, doubt, anything. But all I found was the chilling emptiness of a stranger.

It's been months since the last time we saw each other. A month since I signed the divorce paper. A month of being free from our accident marriage in Thailand.

Am I a fool to wish for her to look at me the same way she used to look at me before?

I have tried to forget her. I have forgotten my feelings for her. I don't yearn anymore. I don't miss her anymore.

But who would've thought that seeing her here right now, to finally see her in the flesh, makes me wanna crawl back to her, and ask her to come back to me.

But she wasn’t the A’ishah who once kissed me under the stars, the one who called me babi in a voice so soft it made my chest ache. She wasn’t even the A’ishah who had left me all those months ago, torn between duty and love.

She was prosecutor Alvarez now. And I was nothing but the accused.

“Atty. Alvarez, you may proceed with your remarks.”

A’ishah stood, her posture poised, but I knew her well enough to see the way her fingers curled into a fist at her side. She exhaled softly, then met the judge’s gaze with unwavering determination.

“As the prosecution, our objective is simple.” A’ishah began, her voice smooth yet sharp, every word measured. “To uncover the full truth of what transpired that night and to ensure that justice is served.”

I swallowed hard. She wasn’t just speaking as a lawyer. She wasn’t just fighting for a case.

She was fighting against me.

“We acknowledge the tragic nature of this incident,” she continued, her gaze flickering toward me for a split second before hardening. “But acknowledging tragedy does not negate accountability. A life was lost, and it is our duty to seek justice for the victim, Nicole, whose voice can no longer be heard. The facts remain, Colonel Maxine Blair De Luna fired the fatal shot.”

Her words landed like blows, precise and unrelenting.

“Our goal is not to paint Colonel De Luna as a monster, nor to ignore the circumstances surrounding the case. However, we must ask: was this truly an accident? Or was there negligence? Were there other forces at play? And most importantly, was there an attempt to conceal the full truth?”

I flinched. She wasn’t just asking the court these questions. She was asking me.

I held my breath as A’ishah turned back to the judge, her expression unreadable. “The prosecution seeks clarity, responsibility, and justice. Nothing more, nothing less.”

With that, she sat down.

I exhaled shakily, but my relief was short-lived as Denise stood.

Unlike A’ishah, Denise wasn’t composed. She was burning. Fire in her eyes, in her stance. A different kind of passion. A different kind of fight.

“The defense stands by the fact that this was a tragic accident, not a crime.” Denise stated, her voice firm but laced with emotion. “Maxine Blair De Luna did not act out of malice, nor did she fire her weapon with the intent to kill. She acted on instinct, on training, on the very principles instilled in her to protect and serve.”

She stepped forward, her gaze locking onto the judge’s. “What happened that night was not a premeditated act. It was a reaction to a perceived threat. A threat that, as of this moment, remains unidentified. That is the key issue here.”

Denise glanced at me briefly before addressing the court again. “The defense seeks not just to prove Maxine’s innocence, but to uncover the truth that has remained buried beneath grief and assumptions. If there were other individuals present that night, if there were factors beyond Maxine’s control, then we must bring those to light before condemning her for a mistake that could have happened to any trained officer in a moment of fear.”

Her jaw clenched, her voice dipping lower. “We will not let grief blind us to reason. We will not let pain overshadow facts. And we will not allow a woman who has dedicated her life to protecting others be cast as a murderer without first answering the most important question of all… who else was in that cabin that night?”

A ripple of whispers spread through the courtroom.

Denise took a steadying breath before adding her final words.

“The defense seeks the truth. And the truth is that Maxine Blair De Luna is not guilty of murder.”

She sat down.

The air was thick, suffocating, as the judge absorbed both arguments.

But my eyes weren’t on the judge. They weren’t on Denise.

They were on A’ishah.

And in her expression, I saw everything.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as Denise leaned toward me, her voice a low whisper. "They're calling you to the stand.”

I barely nodded. My body felt disconnected, as if I wasn’t really here, as if I were watching this unfold from somewhere far, far away. But then the sound of my chains dragging against the floor brought me back. The metallic clink echoed in my ears, a cruel reminder of just how much I had lost.

Denise guided me to the witness box, her grip firm but gentle. The room blurred as I raised my hand, taking the oath with a voice that barely sounded like mine.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

I hesitated. Just for a second.

"I do."

And then I turned, forcing myself to look at A’ishah.

God, she was beautiful, even when she was staring at me like I was the worst mistake she had ever made.

Denise's voice was calm but firm, guiding me back to the present. “Maxine, tell the court what you remember from that night.”

I swallowed, my throat dry. My hands clenched against my lap, the cold bite of the handcuffs grounding me in the reality of where I was, and what I had lost. My gaze flickered toward A’ishah. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes… they burned with something raw, something I had once known as love. But now? Now it was something else entirely.

I took a slow breath. “That night had been peaceful.”

“I was sitting by the fire with Nicole.” I continued, my voice hoarse but steady. “We were drinking hot chocolate, talking about life. We had just been promoted, and I was proud of her. Genuinely proud.”

I allowed myself to remember the way Nicole had laughed, the teasing lilt in her voice when she called me ‘Colonel.’ The way she nudged me, playful and carefree. She was happy. I was happy.

Until the call came.

“My phone rang. It was General Ordoñez.” I said, my fingers twitching slightly as I recalled the weight of the phone in my hand. “It was work-related, so I stepped away. I told Nicole I wouldn’t take long.”

I closed my eyes briefly, forcing myself to push through the lump forming in my throat. “I went to my room, answered the call, and listened to the General’s briefing. I was exhausted. More than I realized. At some point… I must’ve dozed off.”

The murmur of the courtroom felt distant, like the tide receding from the shore. I was back in that cabin, back in that suffocating silence.

“The next thing I knew, I woke up… and something felt wrong.” My voice faltered for just a second, but I pushed through. “The fire had gone out. The lights were off. Everything was too quiet. Too still. And then I saw them.”

A'ishah stiffened slightly, but I didn’t dare look at her.

“Shadows. Dark figures moving in the moonlight.” I said, my pulse quickening at the memory. “They weren’t just standing there. They were fighting. There were low grunts, the sound of impact. A struggle.”

I exhaled sharply, my jaw tightening. “My instincts took over. I didn’t think, I reacted. I reached for the gun under my pillow, aimed at the movement. My training told me to assess, to identify the target. But it was dark. My body moved before my mind could catch up.”

I felt my chest constrict, the weight of it all pressing down on me like a vice. “And then I heard her.”

A pause. A second stretched into eternity.

“Maxine!”

Nicole’s voice. Urgent, and desperate echoed through my skull.

“But it was too late.” My voice broke. “My finger had already pulled the trigger.”

The courtroom was utterly silent. Not even the usual shifting of chairs or murmurs from the gallery broke through the thick tension in the air.

I forced myself to meet A’ishah’s gaze. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, her expression unreadable, but her hands… her hands were gripping the edge of the prosecution table so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

I swallowed hard. “The gunshot rang out. Loud. Deafening. And then… nothing. Just silence.”

Denise took a careful step forward. “And when the lights came on?”

My throat felt tight. “Nicole was on the floor.” I whispered. “Bleeding.”

I barely registered the way the room seemed to exhale collectively, as if they had all been holding their breath.

I closed my eyes, the image seared into my memory. Nicole’s body, the way her chest rose and fell unevenly. The blood pooling beneath her. The way her eyes, so full of life just hours before had looked at me in confusion. In pain.

“I tried to stop the bleeding. I begged her to hold on.” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. “I kept telling her it was going to be okay. That help was coming.”

But deep down, I knew.

“She died in my arms.”

A’ishah flinched.

I looked down, my breath shaky. “I never meant to kill Nicole. I thought I was protecting her. I thought I was protecting us.”

Then, finally, Denise spoke. “Maxine, do you know who the shadowed figures were?”

I lifted my head, my mind reeling. “No.” I admitted. “I never got to see their faces before I fired.”

Denise turned to the judge. “Your Honor, I’d like to submit that this was not an act of intentional murder, but a tragic mistake born out of a perceived threat. We have reason to believe that there were other individuals in that cabin that night. Individuals who have yet to be identified.”

Murmurs spread through the courtroom like wildfire.

But I didn’t care.

Because when I looked at A’ishah, all I saw was the devastation in her eyes.

And I knew, no matter what happened next… She would never forgive me.

But, fuck! I don't care.

I still want her.

I wanted to say something. I miss you. I’m sorry. Please believe me. But my throat tightened, and before I could gather the courage, she was already standing.

Cold. Unforgiving.

"You swore an oath to tell the truth, Maxine." Her voice was steady, sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "So I'm going to ask you once again: did you kill Nicole?"

The words struck me like a hammer to the chest.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "No." My voice trembled, but I forced myself to keep going. "I didn’t kill her. I didn’t mean to—"

"You didn’t mean to?" A’ishah’s voice rose, her eyes burning with fury. "But you still pulled the trigger. You still shot her in cold blood.”

"That’s not what happened!" My voice cracked. My hands curled into fists against my lap. "I didn’t kill Nicole! It was an accident, A’ishah. You have to believe me! I never meant to hurt anyone—"

"You’re lying!"

The words hit me like a slap.

"I saw my best friend die because of you." A’ishah’s voice was breaking now, but her anger only grew. "You killed her. And now you’re standing here, trying to lie your way out of it."

I felt my chest constrict. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it happened.

Tears burned at the edges of my vision, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of her.

"A’ishah, please..." My voice dropped to a whisper, raw with desperation. "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. You know me. You know I would never hurt Nicole. I loved her too, you have to—"

"You love her?" A’ishah scoffed, shaking her head in disgust. "You love her, and yet you killed her. How does that even make sense, Maxine? You can’t say you love someone and then take their life away in an instant. No. You don’t get to do that.”

The room was spinning. The walls were closing in.

"Stop!" I barely recognized my own voice. "You don’t understand! I was scared. I didn’t know what I was doing. It wasn’t supposed to go that way. I didn’t want to kill anyone, least of all Nicole!"

A’ishah’s eyes burned with betrayal. "How many times do I have to hear you say that?" Her voice was ice, cutting me to the bone. "You took her life, Maxine. It doesn’t matter how many excuses you make. The truth is you killed her. And nothing you say is going to change that.”

I felt the last piece of me shatter.

The courtroom faded into a dull hum. The people, my family, our friends, the cameras, the judge, but none of it mattered. The only thing that existed was the woman standing before me, the only woman I had ever truly loved, looking at me like I was a monster.

I tried to say something, anything, but before I could, Denise’s voice cut through the chaos.

"Objection, Your Honor!" Her words were sharp, controlled. "The prosecution is being overly hostile. This line of questioning is unprofessional and inflammatory.”

I barely heard the judge’s warning to A’ishah, barely registered the murmurs in the room.

All I could feel was the weight of A’ishah’s final words.

"You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself, Maxine. You killed her. And now you have to face the consequences. There’s no running away from it."

Something inside me broke.

A slow, painful breath left my lips as my hands curled into fists in my lap. The room blurred, my body growing heavy as the chains around my wrists pressed into my skin.

There was no running away from it.

No matter what I said, no matter how much I begged, she would never believe me.

A’ishah would never forgive me.

My hands curled into fists on my lap. The cold weight of the courtroom bore down on me, suffocating, unrelenting. I kept my gaze locked onto A’ishah as she moved, the click of her heels echoing in the silence. Each step felt deliberate, controlled.

But it wasn’t just her voice or presence that unsettled me, it was the look in her eyes. Detached. Calculated. Like I was just another case to dismantle.

She raised a photograph, the screen behind her flashing to life. My stomach clenched at the sight of it.

Me. Holding the gun. Nicole on the floor. Blood. Too much blood.

A’ishah’s voice was steady. "Miss De Luna, do you recognize this image?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes."

"You were holding the gun when the police arrived, correct?"

"Yes, but—"

"No buts.” She cut in smoothly, walking toward me. "Answer the question clearly. You were holding the weapon, yes?"

I forced myself to nod. "Yes."

She didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. "And that gun, the one in your hands… It had your fingerprints on it.”

I felt my pulse spike. I gritted my teeth, inhaling through my nose. "Yes."

A’ishah placed the forensic report onto the evidence table, flipping it open with precision. "Your fingerprints were the only clear set found on the grip. Would you like to dispute that?"

I shook my head. "I’m not disputing it. But that doesn’t mean I shot her."

Her expression didn’t change. "Then let’s talk about the time leading up to the shooting. You claim you don’t remember what happened that night."

A lump formed in my throat. "I don’t.”

A’ishah nodded, stepping back. "Convenient.” She murmured, loud enough for the courtroom to hear.

A fresh wave of anger surged in my chest. "I’m not lying."

“That's all I need to know, your Honor.” A'ishah said as she sat down.

The judge nodded at her. “Re-examine?” She raised an eyebrow to Denise.

Denise stood up, adjusting the cuffs of her blazer as she stepped toward the center of the courtroom. Her expression was unreadable, but her grip on the evidence bag was firm.

I swallowed hard. Denise had always been sharp, relentless when she wanted to be. But right now, she wasn’t just trying to prove a point, she was trying to save me.

She met my eyes briefly before turning toward the judge. “Your Honor, if it pleases the court, I’d like to introduce new evidence that will provide critical context to the events of that night.”

The judge gestured for her to proceed.

Denise reached for the first evidence bag on the table and held it up for the jury to see. “This,” She announced, “is a tumbler found at the scene of the crime.”

I watched as the courtroom’s attention shifted to the simple, unassuming object in her hands. But I knew better. It wasn’t just a tumbler. It was something far more dangerous.

Denise turned to the judge. “At first glance, this may seem like an ordinary drinking container, something that could easily be overlooked. However, forensic analysis has revealed traces of a powerful sedative inside, one strong enough to incapacitate someone within minutes.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I exhaled shakily, my fingers tightening against my lap.

Denise walked toward me, her gaze locked onto mine as she spoke. “Maxine, you admitted earlier that you had been drinking that night.”

I nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Do you remember drinking from this tumbler?”

I hesitated. “I… I don’t know. I don’t remember much from that night.”

Denise nodded as if she expected that response. Then, she set the tumbler down and reached for another bag. “And this,” she said, holding up a sleek white device, “is a humidifier. Found in Maxine’s shared room the night of the incident.”

A’ishah’s posture straightened slightly at the mention of it, but she said nothing.

Denise turned back to the judge. “Forensic tests confirmed that this humidifier contained traces of Scopolamine, also known as Devil’s Breath. A drug notorious for causing memory loss, confusion, and extreme suggestibility.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Denise placed the evidence on the table before facing me again. “Maxine, you said you don’t remember what happened that night. But tell me, before you blacked out, did you feel disoriented? Weak? Like something was… off?”

I swallowed, trying to dig through the haze of my fractured memories. “I remember feeling dizzy. Heavy. I thought it was just the alcohol, but… it felt different.”

Denise nodded, then turned sharply toward the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s consider the implications of this. If Maxine had unknowingly inhaled Scopolamine and ingested a sedative, then it’s not just possible. It's likely that she was drugged. And if she was drugged…” Denise walked to the center of the courtroom, voice unwavering, “then how can we trust what she remembers? How can we trust that what she saw, or what we think she saw was real?”

Silence hung in the air.

A’ishah leaned back in her seat, her expression carefully blank, but I could see the way her fingers curled against her armrest.

Denise turned back to me, her voice softer. “Maxine, do you believe you would ever willingly harm Nicole?”

I shook my head fiercely. “No. Never.”

Denise exhaled, then looked back at the judge. “Your Honor, the prosecution built their case on circumstantial evidence. Maxine holding the gun, Maxine’s fingerprints. But they failed to ask the most important question: Was Maxine in control of her own actions?”

She paused, then continued.

“The evidence suggests that she wasn’t.”

I gripped the edges of my seat, my pulse racing.

Denise turned back to the jury, her voice steady. “Maxine Blair De Luna was not just a witness that night. She was a victim.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Denise met my gaze one last time. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

“Do you wish to re-cross examine again, Atty. Alvarez?” The judge raised an eyebrow to A'ishah.

“Yes, your Honor.”

A’ishah stood slowly, smoothing down the front of her blazer before stepping back to the center of the courtroom. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a sharpness in her eyes that made my stomach turn.

“Your Honor,” She said evenly, “the defense makes a compelling argument. However, it is built on speculation rather than fact.”

She turned, facing me again. “Miss De Luna, I have a few more questions for you.”

I forced myself to meet her gaze, but it was unbearable. Her eyes held none of the warmth I once knew.

A’ishah took measured steps toward the evidence table and picked up the tumbler. She held it up for the judge to see before looking at me again.

“The defense argues that this tumbler contained a powerful sedative.” She began. “But let me ask you again, Miss De Luna. Do you have any clear memory of drinking from it?”

I hesitated, the weight of everyone’s gaze pressing down on me. “No.” I admitted.

A’ishah tilted her head. “No?” She echoed, as if confirming my words for effect. “So, we don’t actually know if you were the one who drank from it.”

I clenched my jaw, my hands curling into fists.

She turned toward the judge, her voice steady. “The presence of a sedative in a tumbler does not automatically prove that the accused consumed it. We have no evidence that Maxine drank from this tumbler that night. It could have belonged to anyone in that cabin.”

Denise’s jaw tightened, but she remained silent.

A’ishah set the tumbler down and picked up the humidifier next. She took a step closer, just enough to keep me locked in place under her scrutiny.

“The defense also claims that this humidifier contained traces of Scopolamine, also known as the Devil’s Breath.” She said. “And that, supposedly, it was meant to drug Miss De Luna.”

She turned to the forensic analyst on the witness stand. “Tell me, was there any way to determine who inhaled the drug?”

The analyst adjusted his glasses. “No, ma’am. While the substance was detected in the humidifier, we cannot conclude who was affected by it. It was dispersed into the air.”

A’ishah hummed, then turned back to me. “So, once again, we don’t know if Maxine was the one drugged. We don’t know if anyone else in that room was affected. We don’t even know if it was used that night.”

I felt my pulse spike.

A’ishah took another step closer. “But you know what we do know?”

She reached into the evidence folder and pulled out the crime scene photo, the same one that had been haunting me since this trial began. The same one that made me sick every time I looked at it.

She turned the photo toward me, forcing me to confront it.

Nicole. On the floor. Blood pooling beneath her.

And me, standing there, the gun in my hands.

A’ishah’s voice was sharp, unwavering. “We do know that when the police arrived, you were the one holding the gun.”

I sucked in a breath, but she didn’t give me time to respond.

“We do know that Nicole was found lifeless in your room.”

A’ishah turned toward the judge, her voice cutting through the courtroom. “Regardless of whether or not Maxine was drugged, the fact remains: Nicole was found bleeding out in her room. She was holding the weapon. Her fingerprints were on it.”

The weight of her words crashed over me like a tidal wave.

A’ishah turned back to me, her eyes colder than ever. “So tell me, Miss De Luna, if you were truly drugged and unaware of your actions, how did Nicole end up in your room, bleeding on the floor?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

A’ishah took one last step closer, lowering her voice just enough for the words to hit harder.

“Or are you just trying to escape the consequences of what you’ve done?”

The silence in the courtroom was deafening.

I gritted my teeth, gripping the edges of my seat so tightly my knuckles turned white.

A’ishah had just flipped everything against me.

And worse?

She made me doubt myself.

~~~

Thank you for reading! 💛