The Witness In White

The bailiff pulls open the door, and in strides a lady dressed in a suit of pristine white, her hair done up in a short bun, an annoyed look crossing her otherwise angelic face.

“I believe I’m wanted as a witness in here?” Scarlet Najbreit asks.

The judge’s face is a perfect picture of shock. The aged lines on her face all lead down to the small ‘o’ of her mouth, while the gavel falls out of her suddenly slack hand, hitting the table with a thunk. She knows Scarlet—has watched her duke it out with many corporations right here in this courtroom—but of course, she thought that my relationship with the family was a strictly no-contact policy, each person having fully made that choice themselves, me excepted.

“Apologies, Judge Novak. I should have let you complete your line of inquiry first,” Scarlet says, brushing past the surprised bailiff and taking a seat next to me. She gives me a cursory up and down and then nods, apparently satisfied with what she sees.

“How’d it go?” she asks me.

“I'm all patched up now,” I reply, and I’m about to elaborate, when I remember that I’m in a courtroom with a stenographer getting down every word I’m saying. So instead: “You know how it is with the nicotine.”

“Yes, it’s safer that way,” Scarlet replies, the double meaning not lost on either of us.

The judge clears her throat.

“Ms. Najbreit, could you state your name for the record and swear yourself in, please?”

Scarlet does without skipping a beat, and then she looks at me, questioningly. She doesn’t know where in the hearing we were when she barged in.

“Thank you, Ms. Najbreit. It’s good to see you today,” the judge says. She shuffles the papers on her desk, the act almost a nervous tic. “I was about to conclude the hearing when you came in, but now that you’re here, I do have some questions for you.” The judge pauses, taking stock of the two of us. She seems to be trying to figure out the situation here, and begins with a simple question: “Can you describe for me the relationship between Mr. Najbreit and Ms. Elizabeth Kestrel?”

“As it currently stands, there’s not much of one at all. Or rather, the relationship that does exist is not a reciprocal one,” Scarlet says. “Markus has been very clear with Elizabeth that he does not welcome her presence, and yet, she persists in trying to continue her abusive relationship with him.”

We haven’t had time to rehearse things. Originally, we’d planned to meet before the hearing and cover the story, but things obviously went awry. All that Scarlet knows is the little that I told her that day when we met, but she’s quick, and she’s pieced together what needs to be said.

“Can you point to any concrete actions that would indicate this degree of persistence? To the best of our understanding, Mr. Najbreit and Ms. Kestrel were only in a relationship for a week,” the judge says.

Shit. Scarlet doesn’t know any details. She’s also sworn an oath—if she’s caught lying, then she is fucked, and then perhaps so am I.

“My understanding is that she has been very clingy in communication,” Scarlet says.

She pauses a moment to think, glancing at me. The answer as it stands is insufficient, and she’s searching for something. I was an idiot, for keeping my tongue tight when I met her earlier. I should have known something like this would happen, but I was too proud, and more importantly, too disoriented to know better.

“She also… came back after he told her not to,” Scarlet says, “and then assaulted him, then. That reads to me like a person who will continue to exhibit this kind of behaviour in the future. She is a stalker, and a violent one at that. My opinion is that, though Markus is perhaps taking more action than a typical person would, it is much better to be safe than sorry.”

The girl fucking did it. She put her faith in my competence, rolled the dice, and I can see from the judge’s expression that it’s paid off.

“Thank you,” she says, because for some reason, the judge trusts Scarlet and not me. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve had your name dragged through the mud in court. “Your appearance also helps put to rest the worry I had about his family motives. It is clear that some overtures have been made, and though it is not the business of the court to rule on the day to day goings of our families, it does give me confidence that this particular one appears to be healing.”

The judge nods, and scribbles something down on one of the sheets of paper.

“I am happy to say that I have ruled in favour of the requested name change, waived the requirement for publication, and ordered the record of this change sealed. Court is adjourned.”

The bailiff comes up to collect the paperwork, and then starts to guide Scarlet and I out of the room. Palpable relief floods my veins, but I maintain a stoic expression as I express my thanks to the judge. Inside, I feel like a million—correction, billion—dollars, because goddamnit, I’m going to be a billionaire.

“The paperwork will take thirty minutes or so to process, and you can come to the front desk on the second floor to collect it when it’s completed, Mr. Najbreit,” the bailiff says. “In the meantime, feel free to wait anywhere in the building.”

The bailiff leaves, and I turn to Scarlet, who stands next me. A small group of people is being led into the courtroom now, ready for their hearing; I see one of them glancing back at the two of us, and whispering to his neighbor. Fuck. A potential leak.

“We need to talk,” I say, turning to face Scarlet.

“We need to find someplace private,” she replies, eyeing the same people that I was just a moment ago.