Maxine's POV

I wanted to stay mad. I should stay mad.

But damn it, even as fury boiled in my veins, even as every rational part of me screamed that A’ishah had once again chosen someone over me, my traitorous heart refused to let go.

I walked away before she could say anything else, before I could do something stupid.

My hands were clenched into fists as I strode through the dimly lit corridor, my breaths coming out sharp, uneven. The cold walls of the detention center felt even more suffocating than before, like they were closing in on me. Like they knew exactly how fucking useless I felt.

A’ishah was letting him walk free.

The man I fought so damn hard to put behind bars. The man who ruined lives without a second thought. I bled for that case. I sacrificed everything for it. And she… she was undoing it all with one stroke of a pen.

And for what?

I let out a bitter laugh, running a hand down my face as I reached the hallway leading to my shared cell with Lovely and Ate Carmen.

I wanted to be angry, to stay angry, to let that rage fuel me and burn away whatever was left of this pathetic attachment I still had to her.

But it wasn’t working.

Because beneath all that fury, beneath all that betrayal, was something worse, something uglier.

A hollow ache.

A stupid, desperate, jealous kind of pain that made my stomach twist and my chest tighten.

Because it wasn’t just about Alverson walking free. It was about A’ishah choosing him. Prioritizing him. Keeping her reasons to herself while expecting me to just trust her.

Like I hadn’t spent the last year being the one left behind. Like I wasn’t the one still breaking over her.

I reached the cell door, gripping the bars tightly as I exhaled, trying to force the emotions down.

Lovely glanced up from her bunk, raising a brow. “Mukha kang galing sa away.”

Ate Carmen looked up from her crocheting, studying me with sharp, knowing eyes. “May umaway na naman ba sayo sa labas?”

I let out another sharp breath, forcing a smirk. “Tingin niyo?”

Neither of them looked convinced.

I sighed, pressing my back against the cold metal bars. I don't wanna talk for now. They won't understand me anyway.

People will never understand.

Why do I still love A'ishah despite the things she did? Am I blind to not see it? Or am I just stupid enough to stay in love even if she's the one building the case to send me away forever?

I shut my eyes, inhaling sharply as I tried to push away the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me.

I should hate her. I want to hate her.

Pero kahit ilang beses kong sabihin yon sa sarili ko, kahit anong pilit kong ipunin yung galit ko, I still love her.

And it’s killing me.

I slid down against the cold bars, my head resting against the metal, my breath uneven. Lovely and Ate Carmen exchanged glances, but they didn’t push. Maybe they sensed that I wasn’t in the mood. Maybe they just knew that no matter what they said, it wouldn’t change the fact that I was fucking drowning in my own mess.

My fingers twitched against my lap, restless. Naiinis ako sa sarili ko, sa kanya, sa lahat.

And now, after all this time, she’s standing on the other side of the courtroom, fighting to put me away. Fighting to make sure I never walk free again.

Shouldn’t that be enough for me to finally let go?

My chest felt tight, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me like a vice. My entire life, I fought to survive, to prove myself, to win.

Pero anong silbi ng lahat kung sa huli, sa kaniya, talo pa rin ako?

I swallowed hard, dragging a hand down my face. She made her choice. And I… I have to live with it.

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to steady my breath.

I should hate her. I have to hate her.

Pero kahit anong pilit kong ipunin yung galit, kahit ilang beses kong ipaalala sa sarili ko na iniwan niya ako, na siya mismo ang dahilan kung bakit nandito ako ngayon, fuck!

Bakit hindi ko magawa?

I tilted my head back, staring blankly at the dull gray ceiling. The air in this cell was thick, suffocating. I wanted to scream, to slam my fist into the wall until the pain drowned out everything else. But all I could do was swallow the bitterness, the hurt, and the unbearable weight of everything I refused to feel.

"You look deep in thought.” Lovely murmured, breaking through my haze.

I forced out a chuckle, one that felt empty even to me. "It’s nothing."

Ate Carmen clicked her tongue, setting aside her crochet. “Mas mabuti pang matulog ka na lang. Wala namang mangyayari kung magpapakalunod ka diyan sa problema mong hindi mo naman mababago.”

I didn’t answer. Because I knew she was right.

But how do you accept that you've already lost, when the person you love the most is the one who threw you away?

I gritted my teeth. No. I won't let Alverson walk freely.

The moment the guard walked past our cell, I was on my feet.

"Sir." I called out, gripping the bars. "I need to make a phone call."

The officer barely glanced at me. “Hindi mo pa ba nagamit yan ngayong araw?"

"Hindi pa." I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "And I need to use it now."

He gave me a long, bored look before sighing. "Fine. Five minutes."

That was all I needed.

I followed him down the corridor, my pulse hammering in my ears. My hands were cold, but not from fear—no, this was something else. A deep, boiling frustration that had nowhere to go.

They handed me the phone, and I dialed the number I knew by heart. It rang twice before she picked up.

“Hello?”

“Jana.” I exhaled sharply, gripping the receiver. “It's me, Maxine.”

“Max?” Her voice sounded confused. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Why? May nangyari ba diyan?”

“A'ishah came here to tell me about Alverson's release.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. For a moment, all I could hear was my own breathing, ragged and uneven. Then, Jana let out a sharp exhale.

"Shit.” She muttered. "So she really—"

"She really did it.” I cut in, my voice colder than I intended. "She fucking did it, Jana."

I could hear the hesitation in her voice, the way she was choosing her words carefully. "Max—”

"I don't want to hear it.” I snapped. "I don’t care what reasons she has. I don’t care if she thinks she’s doing the right thing. I want you to stop it. I want you to find anything. A loophole, a technicality, a fucking miracle. I don’t care how you do it. Just stop that bastard from walking free."

"Max." Jana sighed, her voice strained. "It’s final. The judge already ruled in his favor. A’ishah made sure there was no way to contest it.”

I gritted my teeth, gripping the receiver so tightly my knuckles turned white. "Try harder."

"You think I didn’t?" Her voice rose, frustration seeping through. "You think I just sat back and watched this happen? Damn it, Max, I fought for this case too! But A’ishah—she’s not just good. She’s unstoppable. She built an argument so airtight the judge had no choice but to rule in her favor. There’s nothing left to fight."

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. "No. There’s always a way.”

"Not this time.” She said softly. "Not against her."

I slammed my fist against the wall, the dull ache spreading through my knuckles barely registering. "Why? Why is she doing this?"

Jana hesitated. "I don’t know."

"Bullshit." I spat. "You always know. You always see things I don’t."

"Max…"

"Tell me.” I demanded. My chest was tight, my breaths uneven. “You must know something. I saw you two arguing at the parking lot after my trial.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Too long.

"Jana." I pressed, my patience wearing thin. "Tell me what the fuck is going on."

I heard her sigh, a mix of frustration and… guilt? Uncertainty?

"I can't, Max.” She finally said, her voice lower now, hesitant. "It's not my place."

"Bullshit." I snapped, gripping the receiver tighter. "You know something. Don’t fucking lie to me, Jana.”

Another pause. Then, in a barely audible whisper, she admitted, "She’s protecting you."

My pulse stuttered. "What?"

"A’ishah—" she hesitated. "She’s doing this for you, Max."

I let out a sharp laugh, bitter and humorless. "For me? Don’t give me that crap. She’s the reason I’m in here. She’s the reason Alverson is walking free while I rot in this cell."

"I know.” Jana said, her voice tight. "But you don’t know everything.”

"Then tell me." I was practically growling now. "No more riddles, Jana. No more cryptic bullshit. What is she hiding?"

"I…” She stopped, and I could almost hear her struggling with herself. "I can’t. Not yet."

Fury shot through me, mixing with the exhaustion, the helplessness. "Then why the hell did you even say anything? Why even tell me this much if you're just going to hold back?”

"Because I don’t want you to make the wrong move.” Jana said firmly. "You think you're ready for the truth, but you're not. Not like this. You're running on anger, Max, and that’s exactly what’s going to get you hurt."

"I don’t care." I bit out. "I need to know."

She sighed again, and I could picture her rubbing her temples, debating whether to break whatever silent oath she made to A’ishah.

"I'll tell you one thing.” She finally said, voice careful. "Alverson isn't the real threat here.”

I frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you're focusing on the wrong enemy."

A chill ran down my spine.

Before I could push her further, the officer tapped his baton against the metal bars near me. "Time’s up."

Shit.

"Jana.” I said quickly, my grip on the receiver tightening. "Tell me—"

"I have to go.” She cut in, her voice firm. "But Max? Be careful. And don’t trust anyone. Not yet.”

The line went dead.

I lowered the receiver slowly, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Not the real threat? Then who the hell was?

And why did it feel like I was missing a piece of a puzzle that could either save me, or fucking destroy me?

Two days later.

Time passed so quickly. Today is my next trial.

The air in the courtroom was heavy, suffocating. I could feel the weight of every stare, every hushed whisper, pressing down on me like a noose tightening around my neck. My hands were cold, trembling slightly, so I clenched them into fists beneath the table. I couldn't afford to look weak. Not now.

My pulse pounded in my ears as I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. Denise sat beside me, her face a mask of cool confidence, but I knew better. She was just as tense as I was.

The trial had been dragging on for weeks, and today was the day it would all come to a head. The judge adjusted her glasses, her gaze sweeping across the room before she spoke.

"Before we proceed to the verdict, does either party have anything to add?"

I held my breath.

Silence stretched for a moment before A’ishah stood. My stomach twisted.

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t still care.

But as she straightened, her expression cold, unreadable, I felt the sharp pang in my chest.

She was about to bury me.

My stomach twisted into a painful knot as she adjusted her coat, her dark eyes unreadable as she faced the judge.

“Your Honor.” A’ishah’s voice was steady, unshaken. “The prosecution has presented sufficient evidence to prove that Colonel Maxine Blair De Luna is guilty of murder.”

I flinched, my fingers digging into my palms.

“The forensic results show that her fingerprints were found on the firearm used in the crime. She tested positive for gunpowder residue, proving that she fired a gun that night. Furthermore, the victim’s blood was found all over her clothes, all over her hands. Every piece of evidence places her at the scene, with the weapon, with the victim—covered in blood.”

Her words were sharp, cutting deep, but it wasn’t just the evidence she laid out. It was the certainty in her tone, the finality.

Like she truly believed it. Like she truly believed I killed Nicole.

I forced myself to breathe, staring at the table, anywhere but at her.

“Defense?” The judge prompted.

A chair scraped against the floor as Denise stood, her movements calculated and controlled. She adjusted her blazer, exhaling slowly before speaking.

"Your Honor, the prosecution has painted a compelling picture, but let’s take a step back and examine the facts.”

She moved forward, eyes scanning the jury.

“Yes, Colonel De Luna’s fingerprints were found on her own gun. Yes, she tested positive for gunpowder residue. Yes, the victim’s blood was all over her. But does that prove murder?"

Denise let the silence hang, challenging the room.

"Gunpowder residue does not mean she pulled the trigger. It only means she was in the vicinity when a gun was fired. Fingerprints on her own weapon? Not surprising, considering she legally owned it. And blood? If you saw someone you cared about dying in front of you, would you not rush to them? Would you not hold them, desperately trying to stop the bleeding?”

My throat tightened. Because I did. I tried.

But she still died.

Denise took a slow breath, stepping toward the screen at the front of the courtroom.

“But that’s not all.” She continued, her tone sharper now.

"Your Honor." Denise addressed the judge. "The defense would like to submit new evidence for consideration."

A'ishah’s head snapped toward her, but the judge barely hesitated before nodding. "Proceed, counsel."

Denise walked toward the evidence table, picking up a small, polished piece of wood. She held it up for the court to see, her eyes gleaming with something sharp.

"This," She said, turning the object between her fingers, "was retrieved from the crime scene.”

A few murmurs broke out in the courtroom, but Denise continued, unfazed.

"At first glance, it might seem insignificant. Just a broken piece of wood. But after forensic analysis, we found that this is no ordinary wood. It comes from a highly specific type used exclusively for knife handles."

She turned her attention to the judge, letting the weight of her words settle.

"And not just any knives.” She added. "This wood is used for the weapons carried by the Cobra Organization’s highest-ranking members.”

Gasps echoed through the courtroom.

What the fuck?

Cobra Organization?

A’ishah, however, was quick to react. "Objection, Your Honor! That claim is purely speculative. There is no direct proof linking this piece of wood to any weapon, let alone to the Cobra Organization."

The judge held up a hand, considering for a moment before shaking his head. "Overruled. Proceed, Attorney."

A’ishah clenched her jaw but remained silent.

Denise smirked slightly before stepping back to the table. "Gladly, Your Honor."

Then, she moved toward the screen at the front of the room.

"Now." She continued, pulling out a remote, "I have something else to show the court."

She pressed a button. The screen flickered to life.

An image appeared. A grainy, dimly lit photo of Nicole.

The room went silent.

Denise turned back to face the judge. "This, Your Honor, is a screenshot from a body cam."

A’ishah stiffened.

Denise let the silence hang for a moment before continuing, her tone unwavering.

"The metadata confirms that this footage was recorded the night before Nicole was murdered."

Another wave of murmurs rippled through the courtroom.

"And the most important part?" Denise's voice was razor-sharp now. "This body cam belonged to a police officer. Meaning someone else was there that night. Someone who saw exactly what happened."

I swallowed hard, my hands clenched into fists.

Someone else was there.

Denise stepped forward, her voice unwavering.

"Your Honor, this footage suggests that the defense’s claim of an unknown third party at the scene is not just a theory. The presence of this police-issued body cam proves there was another individual involved.”

A’ishah’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t object.

Denise inhaled deeply, her fingers tightening around the remote. “And now, Your Honor, let’s take a closer look at the metadata.”

She clicked another button. The screen shifted, revealing a series of codes and file details.

Lines of data filled the screen, but one line stood out, highlighted in bold text at the bottom.

Device Owner: P/Lt. Nicole Mendoza

The room froze.

My heart stopped.

What?

A murmur of confusion spread through the courtroom, people whispering to one another. Even the judge's brow furrowed as he leaned forward.

Nicole… owned the body cam?

Denise’s lips pressed into a firm line. She glanced at me before turning back to the judge.

"Your Honor.” She continued, her voice steady but noticeably tense. "This revelation raises more questions than answers. Nicole Mendoza was a Police Lieutenant. If she was wearing a body cam the night before her death, then—"

"Objection!”

A’ishah's voice rang out, sharp and immediate. She stood, eyes locked on the judge. "This is misleading. The prosecution was never informed of this so-called evidence beforehand. The defense is attempting to introduce speculative claims without proper authentication. Until we verify the validity of this footage, it should not be considered."

Denise’s jaw clenched. "Your Honor, the metadata confirms its authenticity. If we dismiss this now, we may be ignoring crucial information about what happened that night.”

The judge sighed, rubbing his temple before speaking. "Objection sustained. The court will not consider this evidence until it has been formally reviewed and authenticated. Proceed with the case, Attorney."

A’ishah exhaled, regaining her composure as she took her seat.

Denise, however, still looked tense. She shot me a glance, her eyes dark with frustration.

Nicole had a body cam that night.

But why?

And what exactly did it record?

Denise’s jaw was tight as she returned to her seat, gripping the remote in frustration. The judge’s ruling meant she couldn’t use the footage—for now. But the fact that it even existed had sent the entire courtroom into uneasy murmurs.

Across the room, A’ishah’s posture was stiff, her fingers curled into fists against the table. Her expression was unreadable, but I knew her well enough to see the flicker of uncertainty beneath her cold exterior.

She hadn’t expected this.

The judge cleared his throat. “If there are no further submissions, we will proceed.”

A heavy silence followed.

Denise hesitated. I could tell she wanted to push further, but the risk of being held in contempt was too great. Gritting her teeth, she finally exhaled and sat back down.

The tension in the air was suffocating.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing.

Nicole had been recording something the night before she died. If I was innocent, which I'm sure I was, then that footage could prove it.

The new evidence had thrown doubt into the mix, whether A’ishah wanted to admit it or not.

“Very well.” The judge adjusted his glasses. “If there is nothing further, we will now proceed to closing arguments.”

My stomach twisted.

This was it.

A’ishah stood first. She smoothed out her coat, composed as ever, but I caught the way her fingers trembled slightly before she curled them into her palm.

“The prosecution has presented solid evidence proving that the defendant, Colonel Maxine Blair De Luna, is responsible for the murder of Lieutenant Nicole Mendoza.” Her voice was sharp, unyielding. “The forensic reports, the gunpowder residue, the victim’s blood on her hands—it all points to one undeniable truth.”

She turned toward the judge, her dark eyes steady.

“This is not about personal feelings or speculation. This is about justice. The evidence speaks for itself, and I urge you all to listen.”

She sat down, exhaling quietly.

My chest ached.

Then Denise rose.

“Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen.” She walked forward, voice calm but firm. “The prosecution has painted a compelling narrative, but it is riddled with gaps. We have just discovered new evidence, a body cam belonging to the victim herself. Evidence the prosecution never even considered.”

She paused, letting her words sink in.

“If Colonel De Luna truly planned this crime, why would Nicole, an experienced officer, be recording anything the night before her death? What was she documenting? What did she see?”

A ripple of uncertainty passed through everyone in the courtroom.

Denise stepped closer.

“Reasonable doubt exists, and that is enough. If there is even a shadow of uncertainty, then we cannot condemn someone without knowing the full truth.”

She turned back to the judge. “The defense rests.”

A heavy silence fell.

The judge nodded. “We will now recess, and will return with a verdict.”

The gavel struck.

And just like that, my fate hung in the balance.

~~~

Thank you for reading! 💛

AN: I will publish another chapter later at 7PM ☺️