This week's word is blood:
(Squeaking in just under the wire. 304 words.)
Suzanne sat at the defendants’ table, listening as the prosecutor tried his best to paint a picture of her as nothing more than a common thief. She mentally rolled her eyes as he used words like “greedy”, “selfish”, and “money-hungry”. She stifled a laugh as he attempted to convince the jurors that she lived a lifestyle of excess; spending well beyond her means and using company funds to do so. She knew the truth, and Lord willing, after her attorney was done, the jurors would, too.
She was a fighter. It was in her blood.
Her parents marched for civil rights with Dr. King. Her grandfather was a spy in World War II. Her great-great-grandparents brought slaves to freedom on the underground railroad during the Civil War. She was just fulfilling her duty in a more modern way: taking money from rich corporations and using it to buy the freedom of the children upon whose backs (and by whose hands) her greedy employers had earned it. The truth would come out and she would be vindicated.
The banging of the gavel brought Suzanne back to reality. Her head popped up as the judge yelled, “Counsel! In my chambers NOW!” She looked at Nathan. “What’s going on?”
Nathan glared at her. “ Weren't you paying attention at all? This is not good.”
“What’s not good?” she asked.
Nathan sighed. “You are really something, aren't you? Apparently, the prosecution has dug up a witness that is going to testify that you confided to him that you were planning to run away to Qatar and live on the money you stole. He even had a plane ticket in your name. What the hell is going on?”
Suzanne shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. She knew exactly what was going on.
She was being framed.