Chapter 5 Trial and Erasure

Five years ago, the sun was too bright for a funeral. It was the funeral of a reputation.

Aderinsola 'Rin' Adeyemi sat at the defense table. The wood was cold, and the air in the courtroom smelled of old paper and dust. She looked at her hands. They were small and trembling.

She wore a borrowed suit that was a size too large.

"The evidence is clear," the prosecutor said. His voice was powerful.

"The defendant used her position as an executive assistant to siphon funds into a private account. She betrayed her employer. She betrayed the public trust."

Rin looked toward the gallery. She looked for the man who had promised her the world on a Tuesday night in his penthouse.

Lucien Blackwood was not there. His chair was empty. His lawyer sat in his place. The lawyer did not look at her. He found something interesting in his watch.

"I didn't do it," Rin screamed.

"Order," the judge barked.

The trial was a blur of ink and lies. Vanessa Cole took the stand. She wore a modest navy dress. She looked like a saint. She told the jury how she had found the digital trail. She told them how Rin had been "distracted" and "greedy."

Every time Vanessa spoke, the room felt smaller. Rin's phone sat on the evidence table. It was the phone Lucien had given her. It held his texts. It held his "I love you" and his "I will protect you."

The prosecutor picked it up. "The defendant claims she was acting on orders," the prosecutor said.

"Yet, the device shows no such communication. In fact, it shows a woman obsessed with a lifestyle she could not afford." He dropped the phone and stepped on it.

The screen shattered. The glass looked like diamonds on the floor. The jury didn't see the broken device. They saw a criminal.

"Guilty," the foreman said. The word was shot like a bullet. The headlines the next morning were a second execution.

THE FALL OF THE ASSISTANT.

THE BLACKWOOD BETRAYAL.

GREED IN THE PENTHOUSE.

The public loved it. They loved the story of a young woman who wanted too much. They erased her history. They erased her humanity.

Rin was processed at the state facility.

The emerald world was gone. Now, the world was gray. It was orange. It was the smell of bleach and sweat.

"Name?" the guard asked.

"Aderinsola Adeyemi," she said.

"You're 4021 now," the guard replied.

They took her clothes. They took her dignity. They took the silver swallow necklace. Then, they took the light.

The first month was a slow death. Rin sat in the corner of her cell. She felt the heavy weight in her stomach.

The secret life is growing. The only thing she had left of the man who had abandoned her.

"Eat," her cellmate said. Her name was Big Marge. She had been there for ten years.

"I'm not hungry," Rin said.

"Eat. Or the baby dies. If you die. The walls win."

Rin ate the cold mash. She survived for the heartbeat inside her. She whispered stories to her stomach. She told the baby about the city lights.

She didn't tell the baby about the man who lived in the tower.

Then came the night of the bleeding. It started as a dull ache. Then it was a searing fire.

"Guard!" Rin screamed. She banged on the steel door.

"Something is wrong! Please!" The hallway was silent.

The guards were at the other end. They were watching a game on a small TV. Rin fell to the floor. The concrete was freezing. She felt the warmth leave her body. She saw the red pool spreading on the gray stone.

"No," she sobbed. "Not this. Take me, but not this."

She crawled to the door. She dragged her body through the blood.

"Please!"

By the time they opened the door, it was over.

The prison doctor was a man with yellow teeth. He didn't look at her face. He looked at the chart.

"Unfortunate complication," he said.

He scribbled a note.

"Clean it up." Rin didn't cry. She couldn't. The part of her that felt pain had snapped. She lay on the infirmary bed and watched the ceiling fan spin.

She was a hollow shell.

She was a ghost.

Six months later, the yard was a war zone.

Rin was walking near the fence. She kept her head down. She was a shadow among shadows.

"Hey, 4021," a voice called out.

It was a girl named Jax. She worked for the people who took orders from the outside. She had a sharpened toothbrush in her hand.

"Someone wants you to stay quiet," Jax said.

"Forever." Jax lunged.

Rin didn't run. The prison instinct took over. She had learned how to read power. She had learned how to read movement. She dodged the first strike. The plastic bit into her arm.

Rin grabbed Jax's wrist. She twisted. She used the weight of her own despair to drive her elbow into the girl's throat.

The yard went silent. Rin stood over the girl. She didn't feel fear. She felt a cold, hard ember in her chest.

"I am already dead," Rin whispered.

"You can't kill a ghost."

The guards swarmed. They used batons. They used boots. Rin felt her ribs crack. She felt the blood in her mouth. She was dragged toward the hole-the solitary confinement block. They threw her into the dark. The door slammed.

Three days passed. Or maybe it was three years.

In the hole, time is a circle. Rin sat in the pitch black. She was waiting for the end. The slot in the door slid open.

It wasn't food.

A light flickered.

A flashlight.

The door creaked open. A woman stood there. She did not belong in a prison. She wore a black silk coat. She had a silver cane. Her eyes were sharp and unsentimental.

Madam Eleanor Graves.

"You have a very high pain threshold, Aderinsola," Eleanor said.

Her voice was like velvet over gravel.

Rin squinted at the light. "Who are you?"

"I am a woman who hates Lucien Blackwood," Eleanor said.

She stepped into the cell. She didn't mind the smell. She didn't mind the blood on the floor. "And I am a woman who needs a weapon."

Eleanor leaned down. She used her cane to lift Rin's chin. "They tell me you lost a child here," Eleanor said. "That you lost your face and lost your life."

"I have nothing left," Rin said.

"Good. Nothing is a very strong foundation. You can build anything on it." Eleanor reached into her pocket. She pulled out a photo. It was a photo of Rina Vale. It was a computer-generated image of a woman with a sharp jaw and a cold stare.

"I can give you this face," Eleanor said. "I can give you a name. I can give you the money to buy the city that burned you. But you have to leave Aderinsola behind. You have to let her die in this hole."

Rin looked at the photo. She looked at the woman who didn't look like a victim.

"And Lucien?" Rin asked.

"You will own him," Eleanor said. "You will walk into his house and take his air. You will make him wish he had died with you."

The choice was a thin line.

"Die here as a number," Eleanor whispered. "Or come back different. Come back as the monster they think you are."

Rin stood up. Her bones ached. Her heart was a cold stone. She looked at the dark hallway. She looked at the woman in black.

"Make me the monster," Rin said.