Chapter 9 Waiting

Six Months Gone

The courtroom was silent when Maya's name was called.

She stood slowly, her hands trembling despite her effort to stay composed. The wooden benches creaked beneath the shifting weight of strangers who had come to witness the end of her freedom.

Lucas sat three rows ahead.

Beside Sophie.

He didn't turn around.

Maya searched his profile the sharp jaw, the familiar stillness hoping for a glance, a sign of doubt, anything.

Nothing.

The prosecutor's voice echoed through the room.

They spoke of motive.

Jealousy.

Emotional instability.

They described Nadia's death like it was a simple equation: argument plus anger equals murder.

Maya wanted to scream.

She wanted to stand up and shout that Nadia had been her only real friend. That Nadia had believed in her when no one else did. That she would never hurt her.

But her lawyer squeezed her hand gently.

Stay quiet.

Sophie took the stand.

She wore black.

Her voice cracked perfectly.

"She was angry," Sophie said softly. "Maya felt replaced. She blamed Nadia for bringing Lucas into our lives."

Lucas finally looked at Maya.

His eyes were empty.

That hurt more than hatred.

When the judge read the verdict, Maya didn't cry.

Her heart simply went still.

Prison

The doors closed behind her with a sound that echoed in her bones.

Her cell smelled of disinfectant and damp walls.

She was assigned a bunk beside a woman with tired eyes and tattooed arms who didn't ask questions.

Nights were the worst.

Maya lay awake replaying everything.

Nadia's laugh.

Lucas's kiss in Bath.

Josh's betrayal.

She counted cracks in the ceiling.

Some inmates were kind.

Others weren't.

She learned to eat quickly.

To avoid eye contact.

To keep her back against walls.

Once, a woman shoved her in the hallway.

"Murderer," she spat.

Maya said nothing.

She stopped speaking altogether for days.

She dreamed of Lucas almost every night.

Woke up choking on tears.

The Visit

Sophie came once.

She sat across from Maya in the visiting room, hands folded neatly.

"I didn't want this to happen," Sophie said.

Maya stared through her.

"You killed her."

Sophie inhaled sharply.

"You were emotional that night."

Maya laughed softly.

"You're evil."

Sophie stood up.

Lucas never came.

The Pregnancy

It started with nausea.

Maya couldn't keep food down.

Her periods stopped.

She felt dizzy during roll call.

The prison nurse ordered blood tests.

Maya sat on a plastic chair, knees bouncing.

"You're pregnant," the nurse said.

The room blurred.

Maya pressed her palm against her stomach.

Lucas.

Her baby.

She cried silently that night, curled on her narrow mattress.

She wrote Lucas a letter.

Tore it up.

Wrote another.

Burned it.

She spoke to the baby when no one was listening.

"I'll protect you."

She didn't know how.

Release

Her appeal came through months later.

Procedural flaws.

Inconclusive evidence.

Reduced sentence.

Not innocence.

Just mercy.

Maya walked out of prison six months pregnant, carrying everything she owned in one small bag.

She was thinner.

Quieter.

Different.

London felt aggressive.

She rented a tiny room.

Medical school suspended her license

Every application she sent out was ignored.

She avoided mirrors.

She avoided people.

Josh found her through mutual contacts.

He arrived with legal documents and guilt written across his face.

"I heard what happened," he said.

She didn't invite him in.

"You cheated on me."

"I know."

"You destroyed me."

He swallowed.

"I want to help."

Josh had joined a legal firm.

He offered to represent her.

Secure housing.

Medical care.

Protect her unborn child.

Maya wanted to refuse.

But hunger and pregnancy don't respect pride.

Josh became her solicitor.

He drove her to hospital appointments.

Paid for scans.

He never touched her.

Never crossed boundaries.

Sometimes, at night, Maya wondered if this was karma.

The man who broke her now holding her together.

The Engagement

She saw it online.

Lucas Thoreau engaged to Sophie Thompson.

There was a video.

Sophie laughing.

Lucas slipping the ring onto her finger.

Champagne glasses raised.

Maya closed the app.

Her chest felt hollow.

She placed her hand on her stomach.

"Your father doesn't know you exist," she whispered.

She stopped hoping.

She focused on breathing.

On surviving.

On keeping her baby alive.

Waiting

Every night, Maya lay awake.

She replayed memories like broken film reels.

Lucas in Bath.

Nadia smiling.

Josh apologizing.

She didn't cry anymore.

She had learned that grief eventually runs out of tears.

Somewhere in Paris, a doctor was reviewing old files.

Somewhere in London, Sophie was unraveling.

And somewhere inside Maya, a child was growing.

She waited.

In the shadows.