EMBRACE YOU Lone(liness Book Two)(35)

Outside the courtroom, we are escorted to a small room and offered hot tea.

I feel better now, so I accept the offer. As we wait, I sip the hot, sweet brew. We talk.

"Well, that's one down, one to go," Marcus says. "Let's see what happens with Melanie, then we'll know if we have to flee to the U.S."

One hour later, we file back into the courtroom. I grip Marcus's and Laslow's hands nervously.

Melanie is escorted in. She, too, is restrained by handcuffs and ankle shackles. She sits down. Her hair is no longer styled in an outrageous Mohawk. Her hair is now shoulder-length and a mousy brown.

The magistrate returns to his bench and we stand once again.

Miss Stabb, will you and your barrister please stand?"

Melanie and her barrister both rise.

"Miss Stabb you helped a friend inflict harm on an innocent child and her parents. You know that Miss Wells has long been fixated on Mr. Hadley. You decided to help her in whatever way you could, regardless of what she asked you to do - and regardless of the effects of your actions on an innocent baby, her mother and father.

"During your questioning after your arrest, you professed no sorrow for what you did. No remorse, Miss Stabb."

"But..."

"Quiet, Miss Stabb. It is my turn to speak," warns the magistrate.

The guards move closer to Melanie, prepared for her outburst.

Melanie sighs gustily, but she doesn't say anything more.

"You showed no remorse. Instead, you promised that, if you had the opportunity, you would help your friend to get to Mr. Hadley in any way you could. You have a mental health condition that makes you crave crisis and drama. These are like drugs to you - when they are not present, you crave them. When they are present, you overdose on them - and you want more. No medication exists for your condition. All that does exist is face-to-face therapy and learning how to develop empathy for others.

"I am, therefore, forced to sentence you to a prison term of life behind bars, with no chance to get out early..."

"NOOOOOO! YOU CAN'T! I...I..." Melanie dissolves into helpless sobs.

I watch her when she turns to glare at me. There are no tears running down her cheeks. She's faking. I squeeze Marcus's and Laslow's hands to signal them.

"FUCKIN' BITCH! I'LL GET OUT AND..."

"Take her out and into a cell," the magistrate sighs.

The guards lift Melanie and remove her. She continues to scream as the guards force her down the hallway.

"Your client will not be getting out. She was ready to threaten Mrs. Hadley, so it is clear that she does not care to understand the impact of her actions on her, Mr. Hadley or their child. Mr. and Mrs. Hadley, I am very sorry for what you have been made to go through. You will be safe now - safe to go on with your lives."

With that the entire stalking episode is over. Both Cara and Melanie are headed to prison, where they will live out their lives.

As this realization slowly sinks into my nearly frozen brain, I relax and begin to cry.

"Marcus, we can stay in the U.K.! We don't have to be forced to move!" I say through sobs.

Marcus pulls me into an embrace, pillowing my head against his chest.

"Yes, luv, I know. We don't have to leave the U.K. unless it's the best move for the band. We can focus on the tour and raising Lizzie," he says.

I hear a slight hitch in his voice. Looking up, I see tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Let's go before the slavering hordes descend on us," Tim says.

We slip out as a group and go to the studio. Nigel is waiting for us.

"Well?" he asks.

"Both got life terms with no parole," Tim says.

"Let me call my mum," I tell the others. Calling her, I wait.

"Mum? We're staying in Britain! They got life terms, both of them! No parole!" I squeal.

"Oh, thank the Lord! I'll see my grandbaby grow up! That means you can unpack the extra suitcases in your garage," mum says.

"Yes, thank God. That and the instruments and equipment," I say, wiping tears from my face.

We invite everyone over for an impromptu party at our house. Tim, Linny and Laslow all bring their families and partners. Lizzie shyly watches as other small children troop into the house. Soon, she is sharing her toys and playing with them.

We discuss how it feels not to fear what's going to happen that day. We talk about the "slavering hordes" Tim referred to in the courtroom.

"Well, you'll have to deal with them, regardless. Now that Cara can't stalk me, they'll lose interest in that. Instead, they'll focus on your music and fake broken marriage reports and unintended pregnancies," Marcus predicts.

"All we can do is live our lives in a way that we would be proud to see recounted in the headlines. No drugs, drinking to excess, violence, stunts. None of that," says Nigel. "Speaking of which..." he looks at the bottles of whiskey and ale arrayed on our kitchen counter.

"Oh, no! We aren't drinking all that tonight," I say. "I don't want to be trying to board a flight with a hangover!"

After everyone leaves, Marcus and I relax in the living room. Lizzie is upstairs, sleeping. The day was a long one for her, being cared for by her beloved gram. On top of that, she met other kids and wore herself to a nubbin.

Upstairs, Marcus and I talk quietly as we unpack the "extra" clothes we had packed in preparation for a quick getaway.