Camila's POV

"Can you confirm that the assailant in this video is you, Karla?"

The judge asks—or, at least, I think that's what he asked. All I really hear is the damned name. It's all anyone's called me in here. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what's the good thing to do, so I give him my hardest glare. It's unrelenting, even as the stupid chains around my limbs reveal the shaking in my hands that I'm trying so hard to stop. It's a sign of weakness, my mami used to say. It certainly won't help me win this case.

"Camila," Normani's voice startles me, much closer to my ear than I'd expected. I flinch, another weakness, and whip my head around to glare at her, too, for scaring me. I realise I haven't made eye contact with her very often when I notice her brown eyes, like mine, make me miss Lauren's. I can tell just in the slight movements of her face that she's both shocked and afraid by me. That's... good. They should all be. Yeah, I'm a Cabello. I did what was in that video. I did that. It was me. I- "Camila, it's okay. You're safe."

Her words confuse me, so my gaze falls so that I can focus instead on deciphering them. I hear my voice, but don't feel my lips move as I stammer something nonsensical in return.

"You're here. That was a long time ago."

How could it be? Their "blood..." is still on my hands oh, "fuck, I-"

"You did it in defence."

I nod slowly, gulping down the tightness of my throat. Yes, that makes sense. "I did it to save him."

"You did save him. And yourself. It's alright, Camila."

I frown, turning to look over my other shoulder. Roger is there. He looks tougher now. Angrier. That's what La Familia will do to you, I silently scoff. The judge clears his throat, and I look down at my hands, still shaking slightly, but better. Normani's right. Lauren says so, too. It's alright, because I did it to save him, and I did save him.

"Can I... I'd like to say something, your honor."

Normani tenses next to me, but I ignore it, instead hoping telepathy is real as I plead with the judge.

"Your honor--" Mr Lee speaks up, but is dismissed by a simple gesture, not even a glance.

The judge seems unsure of my intentions but grants my permission nevertheless. The officer standing near him moves his hand to the gun on his hip. A member of the jury shifts suspiciously. I take a deep breath and, slowly, so as not to cause panic, rise from the uncomfortable chair and turn to the jury, as Normani told me to. Convince them, she says, and it doesn't matter what the judge thinks.

"It was me," I confirm, looking over the many faces that stare back at me. I don't have the capacity to decipher any of their expressions at the moment. My mind is still clouded with the memories of what I did, memories of details I'd forgotten, like the exact way Mami had screamed when I first hit Papi, and how she gurgled when I hit her, too. "But it wasn't," I continue. "I didn't... I've always been different, not normal; by my parent's standards, at least. Karla means..." I swallow dryly, my throat having tightened at the name. I look down and push on. "It means 'a gift from god'. In some other language, it means 'warrior'—I know, because I used to think that was who I was because that was my name. That's what my parents wanted; a warrior. They wanted the perfect killer, someone who would take up La Familia after them. All I wanted was to play princesses with my sister—my beautiful, innocent sister. I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to be normal, like you, but they didn't want that. I tried to be strong but... I broke, and I saved him, and I stopped them, but that was wrong, too, and I went to jail, and I met..." I finally look up again, some form of determination firing up within me at the thought of her. "I met Dr Jauregui, and she's good. She's one of the first truly good people I met, and she's helping me. She showed me that it's not my fault, not really, and I can still be like her, I can be good, I can be... insightful, and I can be Camila—which is my preferred name. I can learn to be normal and good like you. I want to learn. Sometimes," I frown, "I want to die. I understand if that's what you pick, I really do, and I don't blame you, but now, most of the time, I want to learn more than anything. If you give me the chance, I can be good. I can learn and I can get better and I can go to the beach." I pause for a moment before quickly dropping back into my seat.

Normani sighs as I wipe furiously at my still-leaking eyes before turning to look over my shoulder, expecting to see her smile among the sea of scowls, but she's not there.

"Where's Lauren?" I ask, turning back to Normani

"She left."

It was her. I knew someone left during the video, but it was hurt. "Oh." I turn to my hands, begin my figure eight, then stop abruptly. That won't work without Lauren. Instead, I interweave my fingers and move those of one hand in a wave over my knuckles, the rhythm keeping me sane. The room seems heavy with silence.

Making this the most chaotic trial on record, yet another unpredicted interruption occurs.

"Um, can I make a request?" It's Roger. All heads turn in his direction, even his attorney's.

"That won't be--" Mr Lee tries to fight, but Roger simply ignores him.

"I'd like to make a request for, uh, witness protection or something. Can I do that?" Without waiting for a response, he blurts, "She's right."

"I'm sorry?" The judge asks, his bushy eyebrows nearly joining in the centre. I almost laugh but bite my tongue to hold it in.

"Witness protection, I..." Roger turns to face me, but I dare not look over to him. They've just started to fade again. "I didn't want to come here."

A sea of whispers erupts in the room, so loud when combined that the judge has to bang his... hammer-thing so harshly that it hurts my ears. I cringe back, and even Normani winces. "Order!" He calls, bringing the room to silence again. "The court will take pause to address this matter. We will resume at this hour tomorrow."