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Supreme Court of Western Australia

PERTH

October 20th

Jodie grabs my hand as the guard leads me inside.

‘Feeling good?’ she says.

I nod. It could be the endorphins from the new being growing inside me, but I do feel good. I feel…different. I have what I need to start again.

I hand Jodie the postcard and she smiles.

‘Hopefully, we won’t need it,’ she says, filing it in her briefcase anyway.

I file away the image of you up north too.

As the guard hurries me along, I test out the possibility of being found guilty. I know you would not return to prove my innocence. But I smile as I imagine Louise MacFarlane’s shocked reaction if you ever could return. When the guard scowls at me, I make my face neutral again; she probably thinks I’m smiling at her.

In the courtroom, I look at the faces of the jury, one by one. Each of them meets my gaze: a good sign, Jodie would say. There’s no preamble today; the clerk asks for the jury’s decision almost immediately.

One of the older women steps up. She confirms that she is speaking on behalf of the entire jury.

Twenty hours to deliberate. Not easy for them.

The clerk reads my crimes: kidnapping, grievous bodilyharm. And then, of course: murder.

This woman—this stranger who will never see inside my mind—responds:

‘Not guilty.’

To everything.

I hear gasps from the gallery, a commotion. Mr Lowe’s face remains calm, before he looks down at his briefcase and shuffles his papers. I know Jodie is looking at me, waiting for me to turn to her. The guard has moved closer; perhaps previous defendants have fainted at this point.

But I’m steady as I stand. I’ve won my trial. My story was believed. I won, Ty, and you lost.

‘This is bullshit,’ Louise MacFarlane shouts, her voice ringing across the courtroom. ‘They’ve got it wrong!’

And maybe they have. But isn’t every story wrong for someone?

The guard is stepping away from me now, and Jodie grasps my hands, pulling them away from where I’ve been gripping the table.

‘You did it, Kate,’ she says, eyes wide, grinning. ‘How do you feel?’

I nod absently. ‘Thank you,’ I say.

It’s not what I imagined. It feels more like a death. An end. Shouldn’t I be punished for something? Or have I served that punishment already? Were those ten years with you inside me enough?

Jodie is still talking, moving her hands emphatically. I’m surprised by her emotion; I thought lawyers were always composed. Seems she did believe me, after all.

‘She’ll launch an appeal, won’t she?’ I say, looking up to where I see two policemen rounding on Louise MacFarlane.

‘She won’t. Go on, enjoy your freedom,’ Jodie says. ‘You can go anywhere you want, do anything. No constraints now.’

I nod and try to look reassured, but in this moment, I don’t know what to celebrate: if the jury say I didn’t kill you, then you are out there still and could return. Will you come back for your child one day? Maybe I should have owned your death, stamped you out entirely from everyone’s minds, left no doubt.

The guard steps aside for me, and I look down the courtroom, to where reporters are milling, to where Mum is trying to push through the crowd.

‘You’re free to go, Ms Toombs,’ the guard says. I glance at her, and she blushes and corrects herself. ‘Ms Stone, I’m sorry.’

I nod. ‘It’s really okay,’ I say.

And it is. I can decide my next name, my next me. From now on, my actions alone will determine my future. And, you know, Ty, I’ve now made your ending mine. I’ve had the last word. Your story has been told—owned—by me. I’ve left you unresolved.