22: Beatrice

I could hear the murmur of Devon whispering in my ear as I sat with effort. He reached out to support my arm which I subtly pulled away and tucked against my abdomen, out of his grasp. I leaned heavily on Trey's arm, angled away from Devon as Trey helped me sit. I had a feeling, deep in my gut, that Trey knew exactly who he was directing me toward. As I settled down on the bench, I stomped on Trey's foot and sent him a glare. He tried to look innocent, but I knew his games. 

He looked away guiltily and I sat stiff on the wooden bench, my abdomen screaming in pain.

"Not even a bullet can keep the mighty Beatrice Welsh down," Devon whispered with a slight smile as I studiously ignored him.

The judge was coming into the room, and we stood, with some effort, as she entered and sat. Our case was next, so we sat l