Read Online Lies of the Heart by Michelle Boyajian - Free Book Online

trying to gain leverage to jump over.
    Richard instantly sees his mistake—he lowers his head apologetically, scratches at the back of his head in discomfort. He shifts his weight from his left foot to his right, shakes his lowered head. I’m such a jerk , his whole body says, and Katie has to admit it’s perfect. When he lifts his head and sighs, Carly squints suspiciously at him, but the tension begins to leave her body.
    “Whenever you’re ready,” Richard says in the respectful tone he usually reserves for Judge Hwang. He walks over to the banister, and before Judge Hwang can object—he hasn’t asked to approach—he reaches over to Carly as if he will give her a hand an apologetic pat.
    But it’s mistake number two.
    Katie leans forward, holds her breath, watches his hand snake over to the banister—it happens in slow motion for Katie, who stays perfectly still and watches the distance disappear between the two hands, the anticipation rising. Richard’s hand finds its mark, lands confidently on top of Carly’s little one.
    “Oh, shit, ” Katie hears Dana say beside her, just before Carly jumps up and thrusts her finger at Richard.
    “False touch, false touch !” Carly screams, and there is a sudden, almost inaudible popping sound, and the hair clip is flying up and over, and Carly’s curls are bouncing into life, springing out in every direction. Richard falters, both hands come up, and he takes a shocked step back.
    “False touch!” Carly screams again, pointing, her face flushing a deep red. She struggles for a moment—it looks like she’s trying to rip off the top half of her dress—but then she yanks a long string necklace out from underneath the top and inserts the end of it into her mouth.
    The courtroom fills with the piercing sound of Carly blowing her emergency whistle, and then there is complete chaos. The bailiffs rush forward, the court reporter half rises out of her chair, and the entire courtroom erupts, Judge Hwang pounding her gavel and saying, “Miss, miss !” The court officer, a heavy, balding man, rushes back and forth, his hands bouncing up and down to signal quiet .
    Jerry is standing, too, his fleshy lower lip hanging in confusion, his body slanted forward over the defense table. Donna grabs at his arm, pulling, and other arms extend forward from the front row of the courtroom audience to rest on Jerry’s large shoulders. They are trying to get him to sit.
    Carly points at Richard with both hands now, arms straight out in front of her and bouncing up and down as she jumps, still blowing her whistle. Richard looks at Judge Hwang and then at Carly, then back at Judge Hwang. The Warwick Center employees, and people with alarmed, serious faces—probably from the several advocacy groups that are monitoring this case—rise and move forward, offering advice.
    “Why don’t we try to stay calm—”
    “Maybe if we could just give her—”
    “If everyone could please—”
    Judge Hwang bangs the gavel even louder, but for once no one is looking at her.
    For the first time since forever, Katie feels the laughter building inside, feels it starting deep in her belly and moving upward. She covers her face with both hands, pretends to go into a spasm of coughing.
    “Oh, Katie,” she hears Dana say beside her in a sad voice, but Katie doesn’t care, just lets the luxurious bubbling of laughter rise up within her.
    And then, just like that, as the laughter gains momentum in her body, she remembers that she has forgotten, and Nick returns.
    Katie’s eyes slide around the room now: all of it, all this chaos, because of Nick. Because Nick is gone. She turns to Jerry, who is squinting in her direction, and then he is back, too, inside Katie and Nick’s story again, even before they met him.
    But there is this one satisfaction, something small to hold on to in the midst of all the confused voices and the relentless banging of the gavel: I didn’t give you all of us, Jerry. I kept