Page 54 of We May Be Fractured

The man who’d been haunting Landon’s nightmares sat right there, separated only by a glass wall.

Well-dressed, clean-shaven, hair styled perfectly, he might have passed for harmless to anyone who didn’t know better.

But Aaron saw the man for what he was—a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Despite how the media had tried to gloss over it, Aaron hoped the truth would finally come out.

When they called Landon to the stand, Aaron glanced at him, trying to pump a bit of courage into him. He’d tried his best to be strong for Landon’s sake. But inside, he was just as jittery, clutching the little rabbit plushie in his pocket, practically squashing it flat from all the squeezing.

Landon approached the witness stand without a glance at the crowd. He kept his eyes fixed on his hands as if they were the only things in the room.

“Mr. Bailey,” the prosecutor’s lawyer started, her voice steady. “Could you please confirm your period of residence with the Greens?”

“Yes,” came Landon’s soft reply, almost lost in the quiet room. “Two years. Started when I was thirteen.”

“And it was during this time, while under their care, that you experienced abuse at the hands of your foster father?” she continued, her tone gentle but firm.

Landon nodded, his fingers twisting together.

“Please, answer verbally, Mr. Bailey,” the judge interjected.

Landon swallowed. “Yes.”

Despite being prepared, Aaron knew the questions were difficult for him, but they had to be asked—the answers were key to helping the jury grasp how serious and long-lasting the abuse had been.

It all changed when the defence lawyer, sharp in her tailored suit, strutted up and started grilling Landon.

“Mr. Bailey, it appears you’ve had quite an unsettled upbringing.

The son of a single mother turned drug addict, no dad in the picture, and shuffled around the foster system since you were three. Twelve different families.”

She’d stated each point as if ticking off a grocery list. But it was her emphasis on the number of families that made Aaron uneasy.

“Your case workers labelled you as ‘problematic’,” she continued, “with aggressive behaviour and a tendency for theft. Yet, the Greens welcomed you, funded your education at a top boarding school, and paid for your clothes and all other expenses. Is that also correct?”

Again, Landon nodded but immediately followed with a cracked “Yes.”

“You’ve never stayed in any other place longer than a year, and before your time with the Greens, such financial support was unfamiliar to you. Would it be accurate to state that you benefited from their generosity for as long as you could?”

“Objection, relevance!” Landon’s lawyer exclaimed. But the judge let it slide, and the atmosphere got even tenser.

Leaning in like a hawk eyeing its prey, the defence lawyer continued her line of questioning. “Why, then, if the environment was as abusive as you claim, did you remain there for an extended period? Why not leave as you had with previous families?”

Landon clenched his hands in front of him. “I was a kid. I didn’t know any better. I believed I had no other option.”

Whispers rippled through the courtroom.

“Why come forward now, after all this time?” she pressed. “Opportunism, maybe? Inspired by Mr. Thompson’s allegations?”

“No.” Landon’s voice rose, his fists pounding against the stand.

“It wasn’t easy coming forward. I was ashamed and scared, and I thought no one would believe me.

But after Ian…” He paused, his eyes locked with the lawyer’s, clearly avoiding looking at the man who haunted his past. “After what happened to him, it wasn’t about shame anymore.

It was guilt. Guilt for not backing him up.

Guilt for keeping quiet too long. I can’t let him control me anymore.

” He finally turned to face the man he was accusing.

“He has to pay for what he’s done to me, to Ian… to all of us.”

“So, payback is what you’re after, isn’t it, Mr. Bailey?

” The lawyer grinned like a Cheshire cat, seizing on Landon’s unfortunate choice of words.

“Your allegations are severe, particularly against a respected figure who’s helped many children in challenging circumstances, like your own.

And yet, after the Greens, you seem to have had quite the struggle.

With a criminal record and a recent community payback sentence, your trajectory appears troubled.

How does this reflect on your character? ”

“That’s not—” Nyle piped up from behind Aaron, but Luzanne was quick to hush him. The judge called for quiet from the public.

“And regarding Mr. Bailey’s financial situation,” the lawyer pressed on, “his employment history includes a series of low-paying jobs like waiter, bartender, and his latest stint as a tattoo assistant, terminated due to bad attitude. This paints a stark contrast to your life with the Greens, does it not? Might jealousy or financial need be motivating factors?”

“I want justice, not money,” Landon nearly shouted, his frustration palpable.

“Yet financial gain would be advantageous, wouldn’t it? Isn’t it true that you tried to get a loan for your own tattoo studio and failed?”

Aaron’s breakfast threatened to make a comeback. The lawyer’s game was clear as day—paint Landon as a money-hungry opportunist. It was a sly move, and Aaron worried if it would work.

But Landon’s lawyer was quick to counter.

After a confirming nod from Landon, she dived in.

“Let’s not overlook Mr. Bailey’s scars, both physical and emotional.

Contrary to the insinuation, Mr. Bailey did reach out for help, only to be ignored.

His self-harm is a direct result of the abuse he suffered during that time.

Mr. Green took advantage of a vulnerable child instead of protecting him.

He used gifts to buy silence, grooming him.

As a recently turned teenager, how was Mr. Bailey to know better when those tasked with his care failed him?

His aggressive behaviour wasn’t a flaw. It was a loud cry for help. ”

The defence lawyer pounced on every word, twisting Landon’s story, trying to cast doubt. Aaron’s stomach was in knots. This was more than a trial; it was a battle for Landon’s truth.

As soon as his testimony was over, Landon bolted out of the courtroom. Aaron, along with Ria, Nyle, and Luzanne, trailed behind him. Out in the corridor, Landon slumped against the wall as if he’d just gone ten rounds in a boxing ring.

“Fuck it! I knew it’d be like this. They’re trying to paint me as some fucking gold digger.” He groaned. “This was all for nothing.”

Aaron moved closer, pausing before touching Landon’s face. After getting a slight nod from him, Aaron cupped his cheeks. “Hey, no matter what happens, you stood up and spoke your truth. That’s what counts.”

“But what’s the use? They twisted everything. And Ian… It’s like we’re fighting shadows.”

“It does matter, Landon,” said Ria. “You’re not fighting this battle alone. Remember, we’re with you every step of the way.”

“And us too,” a voice piped up from behind.

They all spun around to see two guys approaching.

Landon’s eyes widened. “I thought you weren’t going to testify?”

Nyle peered at them curiously. “Who are they?”

Landon introduced them briefly as other foster kids who had been in the same home after him. Ian had reached out to them, too, but they hadn’t been keen on testifying.

One of the guys spoke up. “Honestly, I was scared and feeling ashamed. But hearing what you said in your podcast…it kind of inspired me.”

Landon turned to Aaron, but Aaron shook his head.

“It was Nyle’s video,” the other guy added. “He talked about supporting his cousin and mentioned your podcast. After we heard it, we felt like we could do this too. As Nyle always says, you have to shine for others, right?”

Landon stared at Nyle, expression unreadable. Then, he strode over.

“Look, Lanny, I’m so—” Nyle began, but he didn’t get to finish. Landon cut him off, wrapping him in a fierce hug that was part tight embrace and part near-suffocation.

“Thank you,” Landon said, muffled against his cousin’s shoulder.

“Oh my God.” Nyle was clearly fighting back tears. “Lanny, I love you so much.”

Landon chuckled awkwardly and patted Nyle on the back as they pulled apart.

“You can’t say it back, can you?”

“Just know that I do,” Landon replied.

“See, told you being an influencer can make a difference.”

“Never doubted it. Actually, despite our different tastes in fashion, I’ve always looked up to you.”

Nyle put a hand on his chest, over his heart. “Wait, you look up to…me?”

Landon nodded, scratching behind his ear.

“Remember Aunt Jane’s posh wedding? The only other time I was stuffed into a suit like this.

” He rolled his eyes. “Everyone was trying so hard to look perfect, pretending we weren’t just getting by on welfare.

But you, you went into a massive fight with your mum and dad over that bright pink outfit because they said it was too gay . ”

Nyle laughed. “Hey, it was bang on trend!”

“It was hideous,” Landon continued. “Still, you wore it anyway, with such confidence. That day, I thought, ‘This guy has balls. He doesn’t give a fuck about what others think. That’s how I want to be.

’” He hitched up his trousers to reveal his clover-patterned socks.

“Since you gave me my first pair, I’ve always worn funky socks.

The weirder, the better. They’re like a little reminder to be brave and just be me, like you are. ”

As Nyle’s eyes welled up again, this time with a joyful smile, he glanced at the two guys standing nearby. “We’re going to bring him down, Lanny. I promise you.”