All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(31)

‘Good,’ said the judge.

The prosecutor recited the evidence they had against me, and the judge nodded a great deal, as did Simon Green. The attorney concluded by giving her recommendations for what she thought should be done with me. ‘Ms Balanchine should be sent to Liberty Children’s Facility while she awaits trial.’

I waited for Mr Green to object but he said nothing.

‘Detainment seems a bit excessive in a juvenile case,’ said the judge. ‘The girl hasn’t been convicted of anything yet.’

‘Ordinarily I’d agree,’ said the prosecutor. ‘But you must consider the severity of the crime and the fact that the victim may die. Also, there’s a family history of criminal behaviour’ – I was starting to hate this woman – ‘which suggests that the suspect may pose a flight risk.’

I nudged Simon Green. ‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ I whispered.

‘We’re listening right now,’ Simon Green whispered back. ‘I’ll talk more after I’ve heard everything.’

The prosecutor continued. ‘I’m sure you know that the father was notorious crime boss Leonyd Balanchine, which probably suggests that Anya Balanchine is rather well connected—’

‘Excuse me, Your Honour,’ I said.

The judge looked at me for a moment, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to discipline me for interrupting. ‘Yes?’ she said finally.

‘I don’t see what my family has to do with me. I have no prior record, and I haven’t been convicted of anything yet. If I were sent to Liberty Children’s Facility, this would pose an incredible hardship for me.’

‘Do you mean missing school?’ the judge asked.

‘No.’ I paused. ‘I’m sort of responsible for watching my sister. My grandmother is sick, and my older brother’s health is . . .’ What was the best word here? ‘Delicate.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said the judge.

‘What Ms Balanchine describes is exactly my point,’ the prosecutor interjected. ‘This ailing grandmother is the girl’s sole guardian. If you allow Anya Balanchine back to her own home, it sounds as if she’ll be entirely unsupervised.’

The judge looked at me, then at Simon Green. ‘Can you speak to her home situation?’ she asked Simon Green.

‘Uh, I’m sorry . . . I only got on this case today and . . . and . . .’ Simon Green stammered. ‘My expertise is more criminal law, not family law.’

‘Well, I need more time to think and to find someone who does know something about this,’ said the judge. ‘In the meantime, I’m going to send Ms Balanchine to Liberty Children’s Facility. Don’t worry, Ms Balanchine. It’s just until we get everything sorted out. Let’s meet back here in a week.’

The judge banged the gavel, and then we had to leave the courtroom.

I sat down on a marble bench outside the courtroom and tried to come up with my next move. I heard the prosecutor say something about arranging my transport to Liberty from here.

‘I’m sorry, Anya,’ Simon Green said to me. ‘I very much wish I’d had more time to prepare.’

In a way, it had been my fault. If only I’d kept my mouth shut about needing to take care of Nana, Natty and Leo! By mentioning my situation, I’d only made things worse. In my defence, it really hadn’t looked like Simon Green knew what he was doing. Someone needed to say something.

‘Anya,’ he repeated. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘There isn’t time for that,’ I said. ‘I need you to do a couple of things for me. There are people I need you to call. Mr Kipling will have the numbers. There’s a woman named Imogen Goodfellow. She’s my grandmother’s home-health-care worker. Call her and tell her that she needs to stay at the apartment full-time. Tell her that we’ll pay her time and a half for the extra hours.

Simon Green nodded.

‘Do you need to note this somewhere?’ I asked. I could not have had less faith in this man.

‘I’m recording it,’ he said, removing a device from his pocket. ‘Please, continue.’

Daddy would never have stood for recording conversations, but there wasn’t time for me to worry about that. ‘Scarlet Barber goes to school with my sister and me. Tell her that she needs to accompany Natty to and from school.’

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Finally, I need you to call my brother, Leo. Tell him that I don’t want him to take the job at the Pool because I need him to watch everyone at home. I doubt he’ll put up an argument but if he does, tell him . . .’ I could see the prosecutor and a social-worker type walking towards me and I lost my train of thought. There wasn’t much time.

‘Yes?’

‘I don’t know what to tell him. Come up with something that makes sense.’

‘Yes, I can manage that,’ Simon Green said.

The social worker came up to me. ‘I’m Mrs Cobrawick,’ she said. ‘I’ll be transporting you to Liberty.’

‘Ironic name for a jail,’ I said, making a semi-joke.

‘It’s not a jail. Simply a place for children in trouble. Children like yourself.’

Mrs Cobrawick was one of those overly earnest types. ‘Yes, of course,’ I said. Jail was where I’d be going later if they tried me as an adult and if I didn’t manage to get acquitted of poisoning Gable Arsley. I nodded towards Simon Green. ‘I’ll be hearing from you?’