Roselle didn’t remember leaving Darren’s office, only that by the time she stepped onto the sidewalk, the sun was lower in the sky, casting everything in hues of gold and shadow. The city around her buzzed with life, cars honking, people laughing, the distant hum of a street musician playing a melancholic tune.
But inside, she felt hollow.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. For a brief, foolish second, she thought it might be her father. That he somehow knew. That he would call, begging her to stop before it was too late.
But it wasn’t him.
Hakeem: I heard you went to see if you could reopen the case of your father.
She stared at the message for a long time, unsure how to respond. She had known he would hear about it eventually. She knew her grandmother told him. Her grandmother wasn’t the type to keep things quiet, but she hadn’t expected Hakeem to reach out.
Not after how distant they had become. This long waiting is making her crazy. How long until they can be reunited again?
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed a simple response.
Roselle: Yeah.
The reply came faster than she expected.
Hakeem: Are you okay?
Something in her chest tightened. It wasn’t a grand gesture, just two words, but it was enough to make her throat ache. He hadn’t asked why. He hadn’t told her to stop. He was simply asking if she was okay.
She could’ve lied. Could’ve said I’m fine. But the truth sat too heavy in her bones to ignore.
Roselle: I don’t know.
The typing bubble appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
Finally, his reply came.
Hakeem: Do you want to talk?
Did she?
She swallowed, staring at the question as if it held all the answers she couldn’t find for herself.
Roselle: Not yet.
She hesitated, then added, 
Roselle: But… thanks for asking.
This time, there was no immediate reply. And that was okay. She slipped her phone back into her pocket, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
The world still felt overwhelming, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel completely alone in it. Perhaps, they can live in peace after this, just them.
______
The weeks after Darren's agreement to take on the case felt like an unending stretch of time, filled with paperwork, endless questions, and a whirlwind of emotions that left Roselle feeling constantly on edge. Yet, each day that passed, she could feel the weight of her decision growing heavier, but more real.
She had chosen this path.
When Darren called her that afternoon, his voice serious, she already knew what was coming.
“Roselle, we’ve got the judge’s approval. They’re reopening the case.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest. A moment of disbelief hung between the two of them, but it was followed by the thundering crash of reality. She couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that after everything, after years of confusion and silence, the truth would finally be forced into the light.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice shaky.
Darren’s sigh came through the phone, and she could almost feel the weight of his own emotions on the other side. “We’re not out of the woods yet, Roselle. But we’ve been granted a court date. That’s a huge step. You’re going to have your chance to hear it all, to ask him in front of everyone. To hear the truth from him.”
The truth.
Her throat closed up, and she swallowed hard. “When’s the court date?”
“Two weeks from now. It’ll be a long day. We’ll be up against a lot of resistance. Your father’s lawyer will fight us every step of the way.”
She closed her eyes, holding the phone tightly to her ear. A mixture of emotions twisted in her stomach, fear, anticipation, anxiety. But in that moment, something else lingered too.
“Do you think… Do you think I can actually get him to admit it?” Roselle asked, her voice small.
Darren’s voice softened. “We’ll do everything we can. But it’s not just about getting him to admit it. It’s about showing the world what he did. And if you’re prepared for that, Roselle, then we can go all the way.”
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words sink in. “I’m ready,” she said quietly. "I need to hear him say it, Darren. I need to know."
Two weeks felt like a lifetime, but somehow, it came and went in the blink of an eye.
The morning of the trial was bleak. The sky above was a dull, overcast gray, and Roselle could feel the weight of it pressing against her chest. The entire ride to the courthouse was silent, her mind a storm of chaotic thoughts.
When she arrived at the courthouse, the grandeur of it hit her in waves, the polished floors, the marble walls, the cold, imposing silence. She felt small. Too small for this moment.
But then she remembered why she was there.
For her mother.
For herself.
And maybe, just maybe, for a chance at peace.
“Roselle,” Darren greeted her as she stepped into the lawyer’s office at the courthouse. His expression was calm, but she could see the tension in his eyes. “You’re prepared?”
She nodded, though it felt as if the ground beneath her feet had turned to sand.
She didn’t feel prepared. How could she be? qShe had no idea what to expect once the trial began. All she knew was that today, she would finally face her father. Finally hear the words that would change everything.
“You’ll be fine,” Darren said, reading her thoughts. He handed her a small packet of papers, outlining the key points of the case, the evidence they had gathered, and their strategy for the day. “Just remember why we’re here. You’re doing the right thing.”
Roselle took the papers and tucked them into her bag, but the words didn’t quite comfort her. Nothing could.
“Are you ready?” Darren asked.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but she managed to say, “I have to be.”
The courtrooms were nothing like what she had imagined. The air was thick with tension as the families, lawyers, and spectators filled the room. The judge, an older woman with sharp eyes, took her seat, and the murmur of voices faded into silence.
Roselle couldn’t tear her eyes away from the door at the back of the room. She knew he would be there. She could feel the presence of him, even before he stepped into the room.
When he did, the world around her seemed to blur. Muhammad Aish Faizal, the man who had been both her father and her murderer, walked in with his lawyer, his face set in a mask of indifference.
Roselle’s breath caught in her throat. How could it be? How could he stand there, so unaffected by everything that had happened?
But she couldn’t let herself waver. Not now.
The judge banged the gavel. “Order in the court,” she said, her voice cold. “We are here today to review the case of Katelyn Everlyn, the defendant Muhammad Aish Faizal. This case has been reopened at the request of the victim’s daughter, Roselle Everlyn, who seeks further investigation into the circumstances surrounding her mother’s death.”
Roselle’s hand tightened around the back of the chair she was sitting in. This was it. The moment she had fought for.
The courtroom became deathly silent.
She could feel her father’s eyes on her, could feel the weight of his gaze, but she refused to look back. She would not let him control her anymore.
The prosecutor stood, ready to begin their case. “We have new evidence that questions the validity of the original verdict,” he said. “And we intend to prove that the defendant’s actions on the night of his wife’s death were not a result of a drunken accident, but rather a calculated act.”
Roselle swallowed, her heart thundering in her chest. This was it.
Everything was about to come out.
Her world, the one she had painstakingly rebuilt, was about to be shattered once more. But this time, she would no longer look away. She already know whether or not he'll be proven guilty, but she wanted to have a bit of a hope in her heart. Even if it ends up as a harsh truth.