THEN
As soon as DJ saw Neil Givens at their front door, he knew something significant had happened. The attorney was always so dashing, so impeccably groomed. But as he entered their home that day, he looked unkempt and exhausted. Detective Williams was with him. She looked her usual robust self, but the intensity of her gum chewing had increased to an alarming degree. Her jaw was going to lock up if she didn’t relax.
His dad led the guests to the living room, where they sat. DJ perched next to his mother on the arm of the sofa, causing it to creak under his significant weight. A steady diet of junk food, video games, and trial observation had made him soft and fat. But the bigger he got, the more invisible he became. No one bothered sending him to his room anymore.
Givens took a deep breath, then began. “We’ve recently received some new and damning evidence in the case.”
It should have been good news, but the man’s tense demeanor was contradictory.
“Nelson’s ex-girlfriend has brought forward some videotapes.”
“Of what?” His mom’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Nelson videotaped several of the girls he assaulted, including Courtney.” The prosecutor swallowed, audibly. “Her actual murder wasn’t recorded, but her rape and abuse were.”
“Jesus Christ!” his dad roared. His mom’s tears slipped down her cheeks in silence. DJ considered running to the bathroom and throwing up.
“The tapes were hidden under the floorboards in Nelson’s young son’s bedroom,” Detective Williams explained. “The boy’s mother just discovered them. She brought them forward right away.”
“I understand this must be unsettling for you,” Neil Givens said, “but they’re good news for our case against Nelson.”
DJ’s dad nodded his comprehension. His mom blew her nose into a tissue. DJ waited. He knew there was more to come.
“There’s something else,” Detective Williams said. “It’s about Amber Kunik.”
“What about her?” His mother’s voice was hoarse with dread and tobacco.
The prosecutor coughed into his fist before speaking. “The videotapes show Amber Kunik to be a more . . . enthusiastic participant in your daughter’s abuse than she previously led us to believe.”
“What?” his dad snapped.
The police officer spoke, her jaw clenched on that wad of gum. “Amber’s actions on the tapes are not those of a battered, traumatized victim.”
“Amber is clearly enjoying herself,” Givens elaborated, “as much, if not more, than Shane Nelson is.”
“Oh my god!”
“Fuck!”
The prosecutor looked down, his face ashen. “We would never have offered her the plea deal if we had seen this video.”
“Cancel the deal!” his mother shrieked.
“You can’t let her get away with this!” his dad boomed.
“I wish I could. But it’s too late.”
“The bitch played us,” Detective Williams griped, gum smacking. “The lawyers, the psychiatrists, all of us. She’s a master manipulator. A psychopath. She enjoys playing with people, she gets off on it.”
“We underestimated her,” the lawyer muttered. “We’re sorry.”
“You’re sorry? You’re fucking sorry?” His mom sobbed into her cupped hands. His dad placed a comforting arm around her, and DJ patted her back. Their guests sat awkwardly, waiting for his mother’s wails to subside. When they finally did, the detective and the lawyer got to their feet.
Detective Williams broke the uneasy silence. “The good news is, Shane Nelson will go away for a very, very long time.”
“But Amber Kunik?” His mother’s eyes were fiery.
Neil Givens reluctantly met her gaze. “She’ll get away with murder.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
It was DJ’s own voice. He hadn’t even realized he had spoken.