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Verdict

Author: Edur Dumebi
last update publish date: 2026-05-05 17:55:29

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

POV: Zara

June arrived quietly.

Not dramatically. Not with the weight she’d been expecting it to carry. Just Tuesday becoming Wednesday becoming the week of it and then the morning of it and then the car to Vauxhall with Daniel in the front and Damon beside her and Marcus behind them with his knee bouncing the way it bounced when he was managing something large and choosing not to say so.

14 weeks now.

She’d started showing in May. Not dramatically, she was small and it
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  • OFF LIMITS   Officially

    CHAPTER THIRTY SIX POV: Marcus He knew. He’d known since Wednesday when Zara called him from a bathroom floor and told him in the careful voice she used when something was too large for her normal voice. He’d known since Edinburgh when he’d watched them at that library table with the notebook. He’d known since February if he was being honest with himself which he tried to be on Sundays. He knew. But they were coming to tell him properly. Which meant he had to act like he didn’t know. Marcus Cole was many things. A convincing actor was not historically one of them. He’d been practicing. They arrived at noon. Together. Of course together. He opened the door and looked at them on the step and looked at Zara’s left hand because he’d been told about the ring by Zara on Thursday she’d called, she’d had to call, she couldn’t not call, she’d made him promise not to say anything and he’d promised, and there it was. Sandra’s ring. On Zara’s finger. He looked at it and felt somethin

  • OFF LIMITS   Verdict

    CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE POV: Zara June arrived quietly. Not dramatically. Not with the weight she’d been expecting it to carry. Just Tuesday becoming Wednesday becoming the week of it and then the morning of it and then the car to Vauxhall with Daniel in the front and Damon beside her and Marcus behind them with his knee bouncing the way it bounced when he was managing something large and choosing not to say so. 14 weeks now. She’d started showing in May. Not dramatically, she was small and it was early but there. The specific change in the shape of her that she’d been watching in mirrors for three weeks with the particular mixture of terror and wonder that had become her permanent condition. She hadn’t told many people yet. After the verdict, she and Damon had said. After June. One thing at a time. Today was June. The courtroom was fuller than the preliminary hearing. Media in the gallery. That had started in March when the case became public. She’d been aware of it without ful

  • OFF LIMITS   May In Edinburgh

    CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR POV: Damon Edinburgh in May was different. He’d been twice now. January in the hospice and April briefly to collect the box. Both times the city had been grey and cold and carrying the specific weight of what he’d come to do in it. May was different. The sun was actual sun. Not the watery winter version that suggested warmth without delivering it but proper light that landed on the old stone and made it golden and made the whole city look like it had been waiting to show itself properly. Zara beside him on the train. Twelve weeks now. She wasn’t showing yet or barely. She said barely and he had a view on the subject that he kept to himself because he’d learned which observations were welcome and which ones required more relationship capital than he currently had available. She was reading. He was looking out the window. The notebook was in his bag. Sandra’s notebook. He’d been carrying it for three weeks without opening it past the first page. He didn’t

  • OFF LIMITS   Sunday

    CHAPTER THIRTY THREE POV: Marcus He cleaned the house before they arrived. Not because it needed it. Because he needed something to do with his hands. He’d been doing things with his hands since Friday, fixed the back gate that had been broken since January, reorganised the kitchen cupboards in a way that made slightly more sense, repainted the small patch on the hallway wall that had been scuffed since Christmas. Zara had called him on Wednesday. He’d been thinking about it since. Not the news itself. He’d made his peace with the news fast the way he made peace with most things, loud internal processing followed by decision followed by forward. The decision had been easy. The decision had always been going to be easy. He was thinking about what came after. About what this table was going to look like in a year. In 5 years. About Sunday dinners with someone small at it eventually. About his mother who would have been at that table already planning everything she was going to d

  • OFF LIMITS   The Last Week Of April

    CHAPTER THIRTY TWO POV: Zara She noticed on a Tuesday. Not dramatically. Not with any of the ceremony that the moment probably deserved. She was standing in the bathroom of her apartment, her apartment, not Damon’s, she’d been spending most of her time at his but she still had her own place, still needed her own place, that had been important to her, and she was counting. Counting days. The way you counted when something was slightly off and you were hoping the counting would come out differently than you thought. It didn’t come out differently. She put the counter down on the bathroom shelf. Sat on the edge of the bath. Counted again. Six weeks. She sat there for a long time. She didn’t tell Damon immediately. She wasn’t keeping it from him. She needed 24 hours to sit with it herself before she shared it. Before it became a conversation instead of a private thing she was still turning over. She went to the pharmacy on Wednesday morning. Bought two tests because one fel

  • OFF LIMITS   Lisboa

    CHAPTER THIRTY ONE POV: Zara Lisbon was yellow. That was the first thing. Not the architecture or the hills or the water or the particular quality of the April light that she’d read about and not fully believed until she stepped out of the airport and it landed on her face like something physical. Just yellow. Warm and present and entirely indifferent to everything they’d come from. She stood on the pavement outside arrivals with her bag at her feet and her face turned up and breathed. “You’re blocking the exit,” Damon said behind her. “I’m having a moment.” “Have it to the left.” She moved to the left. Kept her face up. He came to stand beside her. She heard him breathe. The specific exhale of someone stepping into warmth after a long cold. “Okay,” he said. “Yes,” she said. They got a taxi. The hotel was everything she’d promised. Old city. Up a hill. The kind of building that had been other things before it became this — a palace maybe, or a convent, something with h

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