Night Road(69)

Jude shrugged, uncertain.

Miles rose to his feet and stood for a moment. Only the slightest tightening of his jaw betrayed the depth of his emotion. Looking at him now, no one in this room would imagine that he had begun to cry in his sleep.

He smoothed the pale pink tie at his throat and went to the podium at the front of the room, looking out at their friends and neighbors. “As I’m sure everyone in this room knows, it has been an incredibly difficult time for my family. There are no words to express the depth of our loss. Still, I’m surprised by Lexi’s plea. I’m sure she was advised not to do so by her counsel.

“I know Lexi. She’s been like a member of our family for the past few years. I know she would undo all of this if she could, and I am not so na?ve as to believe that she is purely at fault and my own children are blameless. I should have forbidden my children to drink instead of remembering my own high school years. I should have been harder on them, perhaps taught them better lessons about alcohol. There is plenty of tragedy to go around here, and plenty of blame. It doesn’t fall on Lexi alone.”

He looked at Lexi. “I forgive you, Lexi, for what that’s worth, and I admire your decision to plead guilty. I’m not sure I could have advised one of my children to do the same.

“Thank you, Your Honor, for this opportunity to speak,” Miles said at last, looking at the judge. “I ask only that you treat Lexi as a girl who made a terrible mistake and owned up to it, not as a cold-blooded killer. Prison is no answer. It is just another tragedy, and there’s been enough of that.” He turned away from the podium and went back to his seat.

Jude didn’t make a conscious decision to speak. She stood like some kind of marionette on someone’s strings. Jerkily, awkward. She didn’t even know what she would say until she stood at the podium, staring out at the people she’d known for years. She’d watched their children grow alongside hers, gone to their birthday parties. Some of them had younger kids who had yet to face the upcoming high school drinking parties.

“I wish to God I hadn’t let my children go to the party that night,” she said quietly, feeling something inside of her break. “I wish they hadn’t gotten drunk. I wish Mia had put on her seatbelt. I wish they had called me to come and get them.” She paused. “I will never hold my daughter again. I won’t do her hair on her wedding day or hold her first baby.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring she’d bought for Mia’s graduation. The gold shone brightly beneath the fluorescent lighting, the empty prongs like fingers reaching. “This is the ring I was going to give Mia for graduation. I thought a pink pearl would be nice here, but I was going to let her decide.” Her voice weakened on that, and her strength evaporated. She looked at Lexi, sitting there, crying. Those tears should have meant something to Jude; she knew that, but they didn’t. Regret wouldn’t bring Mia back. “I can’t forgive Lexi Baill. I wish I could. Maybe justice will help me. At the very least, maybe it will send a message to the next kid who thinks it’s okay to drive home from a party.” She walked back to her seat and sat down, trying not to notice Miles’s obvious disappointment in her.

“Ms. Lange?” the judge said.

Lexi’s aunt walked slowly to the podium. Instead of looking at the gallery, she looked at the bench. “I am not an educated woman, Your Honor, but I know that justice and revenge are two different things. Lexi is a good girl who made a bad choice. I am proud of her for standing here and admitting that. I beg you to be merciful in sentencing. She has a lot of good she can do in this life. And I am afraid of what prison will do to her.” Eva composed herself and then returned to her seat.

The judge looked up. “Anyone else?”

Jude felt Zach shift in his seat, and then, slowly, he stood.

A gasp moved through the gallery. Jude knew what they saw when they looked at Zach: his burns, the newly shaved head, the discolored skin around his eyes, but mostly those who knew him saw his sadness. The boy who used to smile was gone. In his place stood this paler, injured version of her son.

“Zachary?” the judge said.

“It’s not all her fault,” he said without going to the podium. “I was the designated driver that night. I was the one who’d said I wouldn’t drink. But I did anyway. I did. If she hadn’t driven, I would have. I should go to prison instead of her.”

He sat back down.

“Please stand, Ms. Baill,” the judge said. “Teen drinking and driving is an epidemic in this country. Toxicology reports confirm that you were intoxicated when you decided to get behind the wheel of a car. At the end of the night, a girl was dead and a community and a family are left to grieve.” He looked at Zach. “Others might share moral responsibility for this tragedy, but the legal responsibility for this crime is yours alone. Obviously, no amount of prison time can make up for Mia’s bright light or bring solace to the Farraday family. But I can make sure that other teens see this case and understand the risk they take when they drink and drive. I sentence you to sixty-five months in the women’s correctional facility in Purdy.”

And the gavel fell.

*

Lexi heard her aunt cry out.

Guards moved toward Lexi; one pulled her arms behind her and clamped handcuffs around her wrists. She felt her aunt’s arms come around her. Lexi couldn’t hug her back, and, after all that had happened in the last weeks, that was when it really sunk in.