Courage
Title: Courage
Author: Fabfan
Fandom: All My Children
Pairing: Bianca/Frankie
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Summary: In 1935, intrepid reporter Elizabeth Yates learns what real courage is.
“I wanted you to see something about her-I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do". - Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird
July 7, 1935
The light was dim in the jailhouse. The brick and mortar walls blocked out most of the afternoon sunlight. Only tiny flecks drifted in like specks of dust through the small square iron barred windows high up above. The stench of mildew and sweat hovered in the thick air like a heavy blanket. Wet, hot, and sticky, the building was a miniature furnace in the summer drought with no relief in sight. Not that the town cared one bit. Only criminals lived within these walls, and what relief did they need? None that didn’t involve chains around their wrists or a tight noose around their throats.
Elizabeth Yates, fresh out of Smith College in Massachusetts, had traveled by train to get to the small town of Pine Valley, Pennsylvania. It’d taken more than a day, with having to switch trains at least once in Philadelphia, for her to arrive. She unloaded her traveling case and marched to the local inn. The smartly dressed man behind the desk gave her a funny look when she asked which way to the town’s jail, but he pointed down the road and told her to look for the big block building close to the Courthouse. She gifted him with a pleasant smile and had him store her luggage before marching down in the direction he indicated.
Elizabeth blinked at the heat as the sheriff led her down the rows of empty cells. Her eyes took in every sight, studying the short walkway. With a grunt, the man gestured at the last cell, his uniform stuck to his arm and small stains forming near his armpits. He smacked his baton against the bars loudly with a harsh glare, “You got a visitor.” He glanced at Elizabeth, “You let me know if she causes any trouble. We don’t tolerate that here. I’d suggest you stay back from the bars to be safe.” He smacked the bars again, “If I hear one word out of here about you, you’ll be answering to me. Got it?” He sneered at whoever was on the other side.
“Thank you, Sheriff Stamp.” Elizabeth stepped forward. Her pleasant smile didn’t falter, “I believe we shall be just fine.”
He hesitated a moment with a reluctant look, not wanting to leave this young girl alone with the prisoner. It was what Elizabeth requested, though, and he did have a mountain of paperwork to contend with from this arrest, not least of which was the multitude of messages from certain townsfolk who wanted justice. At her continued smile, he gave her a firm nod and stalked away, baton swinging at his side.
Releasing a breath, Elizabeth pivoted to face the cell. The grip on her notepad and pen tightened unconsciously. The cell was small. Barely enough room for a metal bed and small toilet that was more a hole in the floor than any sort of bathroom fixture. The window was near the ceiling and smaller than a breadbox, causing it to be more dark than light even with the sun out at full strength. On the bed laid a girl, no older than she. Her shaggy light brown hair was twisted away from her face. Her back was up against the stone wall, tattered feet kicked out atop the thin ratty sheet and crossed at the ankle. Her bony frame was easily discernible beneath the threadbare white shirt and tan trousers. The sleeves were rolled up as far as they could go, near about her biceps, and the ends of her trousers slid over the scruff of her dirty boots. Suspenders were buckled in but spread across the bed near her hips instead of braced over her shoulders. Arms crossed casually, as if she were sitting on a rocking chair on her front porch instead of locked alone in the town jail, and an unreadable expression stared back at Elizabeth. Muddy brown eyes watched her. Drank her in without seeming to be invasive. As if this girl didn’t give a damn Elizabeth was there.
Shuffling up to the bars, Elizabeth sat down on the chair left behind from what she assumed was a guard, “Hello.”
The girl didn’t reply. She didn’t even react.
Setting her notepad on her knees, Elizabeth flipped it open, “My name is Ms. Elizabeth Yates. I’m a reporter with the Weekly Chronicle.” It was a small newspaper a few of her friends from college had started upon graduation. Where most prints only sought men for writers, leaving the secretarial work for women, this paper let her go out and write what she wanted. Let her use her education. With three women founders, it was something of an anomaly. “I’ve come to interview you, if that is alright with you.”
Elizabeth peered over to see an eyebrow slowly rise up followed by the twinge of a smirk.
“Would that be suitable to you?” she asked. This was an interesting story she’d heard. Once the gist of it reached her ears, she was booking her train ticket in. However, while this interview could sincerely help both her and the newspaper with readership, it wouldn’t do any good if her companion didn’t cooperate.
The other girl stared at her for a full minute before her smirk grew, “Doesn’t really matter what I find suitable, does it?”
“Pardon?”
The girl uncrossed her ankles, “You want to ask me questions and write about the big bad monster who all your friends in their shiny dresses and sparkling diamonds should be afraid of. Don’t much matter whether it suits me or not, because you’re still going to write it, and they’re still going to read it.”
“I cannot write about an interview I never had.”
“You ain’t been a reporter too long then.”
Her back straightened at the perceived insult, “I would never write about something I did not know to be true.”
A roll of the eyes, “You’ll be the first.”
“Perhaps I am.”
The girl seemed to think this over. Then, she shrugged, “Alright. Ain’t like I got anywhere else to be. Tea time’s not for another hour.”
A spark of elation hit Elizabeth. “Thank you.”
The other girl rolled her shoulders.
Putting pen to paper, Elizabeth readied herself, “To begin, I would like to ask some basic questions about your background, Ms. Stone.”
“Frankie.”
“Pardon?”
“Call me Frankie.”
Elizabeth frowned, “Your name is Mary-Francis Stone, is it not?”
“I go by Frankie, madam reporter.”
“Very well, Frankie.” Elizabeth continued, “You worked for a Ms. Opal Cortlandt in her barber shop and salon. Is that correct?”
Frankie blinked, “Yeah, I did whatever needed to be done. Kept the place clean. Fixed something if it broke. That sort of thing.”
“And you rented a room in Ms. Cortlandt’s home?”
“Yes.”
“When did you first come to Pine Valley?”
“Few years ago.” Frankie scratched at the side of her neck, “Seemed like a good enough place to stay. There was…I liked it here.”
“Do you have a lot of friends?”
Frankie made a show of looking around, “Rats aren’t too bad of pals, I guess.”
Elizabeth cracked a smile, “Of the human variety.”
“Knew some people. No one who’d own up to it now, but I spent some time with ‘em.”
“What did you do with your spare time?”
Frankie shifted on the bed, “Just ask what ya want to ask. You don’t give a damn about my life.”
Elizabeth lifted her head from where she’d been watching the tip of the pen scribble. She tightened her grip on the pen and looked at Frankie, “Why did you rape Bianca Montgomery.”
Frankie went rigid. Her entire body went stiff as a board. Any form of expression dropped form her face. It was when she turned her head to the side that Elizabeth saw it. A streak of agonizing pain swept through her eyes and forced her throat to bob. The room went silent.
Then, as if being stuck by a hot poker, Frankie leapt to her feet. Her hand clasped the back of her neck as a shaky breath streamed from her pinched lips. Her voice was hard, but an undercurrent of emotion surprised Elizabeth, “Well now, that’s a question, isn’t it?”
Elizabeth watched her pace back and forth the few steps between the bed and the farthest wall. Her back was turned when she spoke again, “What’s the other reporters saying? What’s my story?”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows knit together, “The prosecution has provided us with what happened, as have a few residents. Bianca Montgomery was traveling alone one evening. She had errands to run in Llanview. You followed her. You lured her to a field outside of town. You pretended to need her assistance with something, and her good will and kindness made her trust you. You overpowered her and forced yourself on her.” It was said to be the most disgusting form of moral depravity to ever occur within Pennsylvania’s borders. “She returned home after your attack. She was terrified of you retaliating and stayed quiet for a few weeks. She gained her courage and informed the police of your conduct. They arrested you soon after.”
During the speech, Frankie simply stood there, listening. As Elizabeth finished, her head shook, dipping slightly as it did so, “Not much more to it, is there?”
“I want to know why you did it.” It haunted Elizabeth. That one question. No one as of yet gave her an answer she fully believed or agreed with.
Frankie turned, a mocking lilt to her words, “Why?”
“Yes, why. Why would you…do that to another woman?”
“Haven’t you heard, madam reporter? I’m sure the other people in this town have said it enough. This is the first time in days I haven’t hear them yelling it through the window.” She waved her hand, “I’m a sick perverted deviant. It’s what we do.”
There was something off about the villainous smile, “Why her?”
Frankie’s hand dropped to her side. She walked up to the bars and wrapped her hands around them. Up close, Elizabeth noticed the fading bruises marring her face and neck, the blue-ish tinge treading down beneath her shirt. “I wanted her. I wanted to touch her. Hear her scream. I put my mouth all over her.”
Elizabeth felt the urge to move back, but she refused to.
Frankie pressed up against the bars, “I wanted to show her that I could be better than any fella she had trailing after her. It felt damn good, too.”
“You wanted Bianca Montgomery.”
“Yeah, I did. I wanted my hands on her as she called my name.”
Elizabeth stood up. One thing her friends and professors always said about her - she was smart. Book smart. People smart. It made her a great student and a fine reporter. Frankie wasn’t lying.
But, she wasn’t telling the truth, either.
Elizabeth could feel it in her gut.
“Why her?”
Frankie licked her lips, “I like girls with big brown eyes. I’m a sucker for ‘em.”
“I see.” She sucked on her teeth, “One more question.”
“What’s that? Want to know how she tasted?”
“Why isn’t Bianca Montgomery here?”
Frankie frowned, clearly not expecting that, “What?”
“Why is Bianca Montgomery away in Paris, France?” Elizabeth had discovered this gem of information while doing what quick research she could before getting the interview she wanted.
“Why should I know?”
“Don’t you think it a bit odd she’s not around for your trial?”
“Maybe she likes the weather there better.”
“She chooses weather over seeing the woman who forced her to have sex sent to prison?”
Frankie blinked owlishly. Obviously, this was not the type of reporter or gal she was anticipating.
Elizabeth kept going, “The prosecution says she is too scarred from the ordeal to participate. Seeing you again would cause her undue pain.”
“You got an answer, why you asking me?”
“Because I find it interesting the victim isn’t around to condemn her accused.”
“My lucky day.” Frankie unhooked her hands from the bars and moved back.
“Did you ever talk to Bianca before the incident?”
“Oh yeah, we shared tips on how to get a guy to notice us.” Frankie sneered. “I told her I’d teach her how to kiss him.”
Elizabeth closed her notepad, “How did you get her to follow you?”
“You already said. I acted like I needed help.”
“Yes, I did say that.” She set the notepad and pen on the chair, “Now, what do you say?”
“What?” Frankie leaned her shoulder against the wall, “You screwy in the head or something?”
“Did you know Bianca Montgomery prior to attacking her? Yes or no?”
“Everyone knows her.”
“How well did you know her?”
“What? Is this an interrogation? The coppers already got my statement.”
“Yes, and you said nothing to them.”
“Nothing to say.”
Elizabeth pressed her hand against the bars, “The prosecution says you overpowered Bianca.”
“Yeah, so?”
She snorted, “You’re quite small.”
Frankie bristled, “I’m stronger than I look. Come closer and I’ll show ya how strong I can be. I’m sure ol’ Stamp’ll let you in for a quick hello.”
“So strong she waited weeks to tell the police for fear you’d retaliate. Then, she ran off to Paris to hide from you.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Except for a few details.” There were three reasons Elizabeth was tracking this story. One, was to help build up the newspaper and her own credentials by reporting on a story the public would salivate over. Two, was the facts.
They didn’t add up.
“Bianca Montgomery’s ticket to Paris was purchased over a month before you attacked her.” The bar pressed into the palm of her hand, “She left two days before the police were told of it all.”
Frankie straightened up, “You got your facts wrong.”
“It’s in the records. I looked them all up. The ship company will tell you the same if you telephoned them right now.” She surveyed Frankie’s face for any reaction, “Her return ticket is due to have her arrive one week from tomorrow. One week from the start of your trial. A trial that, by all accounts, should take no more than a few days at most. If convicted, you will most likely be transported to prison the day she returns to Pine Valley.”
Frankie swiped at her nose before scratching at her scalp. Her eyes averted from Elizabeth’s.
“Homosexual conduct is a crime. For a homosexual to force someone to commit homosexual acts is a terrible deplorable thing to do. You are accused of forcing Bianca Montgomery to fulfill your homosexual fantasies.”
“I know what I’m accused of.” Frankie bit out.
Elizabeth calmly spoke as if she hadn’t interrupted, “Are you a homosexual, Frankie?”
Frankie’s heel tapped against the concrete floor, “What’s it to ya?”
“Are you?”
Frankie lifted her head, “I am.” Her face was defiant but her voice belayed the trickle of fear admitting such a secret entailed. “I’m a damn homosexual who fantasizes about having sex with women.”
“Is Bianca?”
Frankie started at that. Her eyes narrowed in anger and her hands clenched into fists, “What the hell you trying to do here?”
“Is Bianca a homosexual?”
“You need to get the hell out of this town.” Frankie slapped her fist against her chest, “I did it. I forced Bianca to have sex with me. I wanted it. I am a homosexual, and I damn well made her touch me because that’s what I wanted.”
Elizabeth swallowed roughly at the fiery blaze in the prisoner’s eyes.
A blaze of desperation and fear.
“You got your damn story. Leave me the hell alone.” Frankie moved to her bed.
“There was nothing to say you would ever attack someone.” Elizabeth pushed on. “I spoke with Opal Cortlandt by telephone before arriving here. She is a very nice woman.”
Frankie spun around so fast she nearly stumbled.
“She agreed to meet with me after I leave here today. She was kind enough to answer a few of my questions before we disconnected the call.”
Frankie stormed up to the bars, anger burning off her in waves.
Elizabeth took a half step back, “She said you were a good employee. You always arrived on time and stayed later than needed to help her. You did not cause a fuss while living in her home. You even went so far as to watch her young son from time to time, walking him to school a few days a week and spending time with him. She said you were not the most polished gem, but your roughness was only one small part of you. Behind the bluster was a good person.”
Frankie griped the bars so hard her knuckles were white as snow.
“She said no one in town really minded you. You were new to the place, but most people let you be. Except two.” She took a breath, “Erica Kane - Bianca’s mother, was one of them.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Frankie spat.
“Erica Kane never liked you. Not since she first met you. She even wished for Opal Cortlandt to not hire you.”
“You need to stop.”
“Interesting how the mother of the woman you supposedly raped is the only one who despised you.”
“Maybe that’s why I did it.” Frankie growled, “To get back at that bitch.”
“Or maybe she didn’t like you because she knew something about you. Something about her daughter. Something you shared.”
“Shut your mouth.” Frankie snarled.
Elizabeth paused for a moment, letting the moment cool down, “You refused a lawyer. Why?”
“Can’t afford one.”
“The state has provided you with one, but you refused to see him.”
“No need.”
“Because you’ll be convicted?” Frankie all but admitted to the crime when arrested.
“The police caught their criminal.”
“Do you want to be convicted?”
“Sure. I dream of spending my life in prison.” Frankie sarcastically replied. Her eyes hardened, “No one wants to defend a deviant homosexual rapist. Whatever louse they get to stand in like a puppet is as good as nothing. No use wasting my time pretending like talking to one would do any good. This town’s already hung me, what’s the difference now?”
Elizabeth felt an unsettling in the pit of her stomach. The words were coated in aloofness, but their meaning was anything but. “Was anyone else out there that day? Anyone who saw you commit your crime?” Word was a Mr. Michael Cambias, a businessman who was in the process of negotiating with the Montgomery’s business, reported the incident to both Erica Kane and then the police. He told Erica Kane her daughter was taken advantage of by the one person Erica hated. The police were at Frankie’s door within hours. It seemed their handiwork still painted Frankie’s flesh.
“Hell if I know.”
“Do you know who reportedly saw you?”
The hardened eyes were pure stone, “Cambias.”
“He is the other person you did not see eye to eye with in town.”
Frankie’s fingers dug into the metal of the bars.
“It’s said you had a spat with him one night outside the Inn. You threw a punch.”
“Woulda thrown more if that copper didn’t show up.”
“Why?”
“Thought he’d look good with a shiner.”
Elizabeth felt the barely tempered rage boiling beneath the tense flesh. There was a story Frankie wasn’t telling her. But, there was a more pressing issue she needed to face, and the sheriff warned the reporter her visiting time was limited. She took a breath before asking the question she knew needed to be asked, and no one else had.
“Do you love her?”
Frankie’s hold slackened, “Huh?”
“Do you love Bianca?”
Frankie’s eyebrows furrowed, and her breathing subtly increased in pace.
There were three reasons Elizabeth was drawn to Frankie’s plight. Readership. The Facts.
And Understanding.
“I have a friend. We met at university.” Elizabeth explained softly. “We are very close. Like sisters. One day, I found her sitting with another girl from our class. They were kissing. My friend later told me she loved her. She would do anything for her. Love makes you do things you never thought you would. Sometimes, those things are good. Sometimes, they’re not.”
“What’re you getting at?”
Elizabeth snagged her notepad and opened it to the back. She slid out the telegram hidden there. Clearing her throat, she read gently, “This is all a mistake. Stop. I will be on the first ship home. Stop. Tell her I love her. Stop. Signed Bianca Montgomery.”
Frankie was shaking so hard the bars clanged, “No.”
Elizabeth glanced over the telegram.
Frankie shook her head, “When did that come in? When!”
“She arrived this morning. She’ll be here any minute.”
“No!” Frankie yanked at the bars, “What have you done?”
“My friend’s name is Leslie. She is a friend of Bianca’s.”
“You don’t know what you’ve done.” the rush of anger receded from her body, replaced with pain.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth lowered the telegram.
Frankie continued to shake her head. With one final smack against the bars she stumbled back. Her hands went to her face. Her palms rubbed harshly against her cheeks and eyes.
Voices at the end of the corridor caught their attention. Elizabeth tilted her head to see a flash of dark hair and heels.
Bianca Montgomery was all but running past the cells, the sheriff staring after her dumbfounded.
“Frankie!” Bianca cried out, wide eyes landing on Elizabeth. The reporter stepped to the side as Bianca slid to a halt beside her, “Frankie.”
Frankie’s hands dropped, “No, Bianca. You can’t be here.”
Bianca went up to the bars, shouting over her shoulder, “Let her out!” She faced Frankie, “Franks.”
“No,” Frankie held up a hand. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m not letting you stay in here. You did nothing wrong.” She yelled over her shoulder again, “Sheriff!”
Frankie surged up to the bars, grasping the front of Bianca’s shirt, “Quiet!” She curled her fingers in the fabric, “You should not be here.”
“And where should I be? Across an ocean while you sit here in jail?” Her eyes were wet, “They think you forced me to make love?”
Frankie’s eyes darted over Bianca’s face, “It’s the only way.”
“No, it’s not. It’s not a way at all.”
“It’s too late.”
“No it is not!”
“No one can know about you. About this. We agreed.”
Bianca rested her hands on top of Frankie’s, “I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if they know. I’m not letting you go to jail because I fell in love with you.”
“I care.”
“This is not your decision to make.”
“It never was.” Her voice became choked. “You really were something, ya know.”
“What…Frankie.” Her gaze darted back and forth, searching Frankie’s eyes, “It’ll be ok. I’ll clear this all up.”
“Too late for that, sweetheart.” was whispered right as Stamp marched up to the trio. His large hand landed on Bianca’s shoulder, and he roughly yanked her back, placing himself between her and the cell.
His baton crashed against the bars, forcing Frankie to pull back. Bianca opened her mouth to speak, but an arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her back down the corridor. She glanced away from Frankie to see a worried face peering down at her, “Uncle Jack?”
“Come on, Bianca.” He ushered her away.
“No, Uncle Jack. No!” she twisted in his grip.
“I told you no trouble!” Stamp shouted as he pointed his baton at Frankie with glacial coldness.
“Just a little chat, Stamp.” Frankie smirked arrogantly, but her gaze was tracking Bianca.
Bianca struggled in her Uncle’s grip until she saw Frankie’s look. Pursing her lips, she lifted her chin and allowed herself to be pulled away. There was a hint of defiance in her stride, though.
Elizabeth had a feeling Jackson Montgomery, District Attorney and uncle to Bianca Montgomery, was about to hear the victim’s side of the story.
The reporter’s attention was drawn back to the cell as Stamp turned to her, “I think it’s about time for that interview to be done.”
“Please,” she couldn’t leave now, “there’s a few more questions I need to ask. Only a few more, Sherriff Stamp.”
Stamp mulled it over before hooking a thumb over his shoulder, “It ain’t safe for a lady like yourself to be alone with her. A few more, but I’m staying.”
He couldn’t. There was no way Frankie Stone would talk with the sheriff there. “I will be fine. She is locked behind those bars, and I will stay back. I promise. I think it best if you see to Ms. Montgomery. She may need to speak with you.”
Hearing a slight crash come from the other end of the building, Stamp nodded, “Stay back. Out of reach, you got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
He trudged away, baton swinging at his side.
Elizabeth quickly faced Frankie, but the young woman was slumped against the wall, face downcast. Whatever bravado and cockiness inhabited her body before was now gone. “Frankie?”
“She’s gonna have to watch me go to jail.” Her voice shook, “Because of you, she’s gonna watch them lock me up for the rest of my life. And, they’re going to say it’s because of her.”
The unsettling in her stomach churned violently, “I am sure that is not the case. She is in there right now telling them this is a mistake. It will be taken care of. The facts point to it. You are not guilty.”
Frankie’s head lifted. The depressed resignation of her features was startling, “They won’t believe her.”
“She is the supposed victim. Of course they will believe what she has to say.”
“Believe the stories of a girl who ran away she was so terrified of my retaliation? Who came back when she heard I was going to jail and after talking with me says I didn’t do it? Reporters really that dumb?” She scoffed, “Here’s how this plays out, word slinger. They’ll tell her she’s under a lot of stress. That I scared her enough to say whatever it is she’s saying. She’ll tell them she loves me. That she told me to be at that field. She kissed me. No one will believe good sweet virtuous Bianca Montgomery would ever do such a thing. Bianca Montgomery would never do such things with a woman. No, she’s just rattled by the homosexual.” She took a breath, “They’ll take me to court tomorrow. Bianca will sit there and watch as they trot out a whole bunch of people who say I’m a bad person. The whole town will whisper about how sad it is this happened to the poor girl. If she tries to say anything, they’ll say it’s because of me. Sweet Bianca is fragile and shouldn’t be around all this mess. They’ll keep her away. She’ll try to fight, but she’ll be outnumbered.”
Elizabeth felt the sting of tears.
“Michael Cambias will be the star witness. The hero. He’ll tell them how he saw me force myself on her. Took away her innocence. He won’t say how he tried to corner Bianca the night I hit him. How I know he’s only playing nice to get the family’s business. They’re all going to think he’s the swellest guy in town.”
Her jaw dropped. Michael Cambias attempted to corner Bianca?
“Yeah, funny ain’t it? Guess he won after all.” She swallowed thickly, “The judge is going to lock me up for life. I’ll be the most hated person in the state. Pine Valley already hates me, won’t take much for the rest of ‘em. Bianca…she’s only gonna hate herself.” She stared at Elizabeth, “You bringing her back means she’s gotta watch all this happen. She woulda missed it all. I’da been gone by the time she got back. Now, she has to live it all.”
“No, that is not going to happen. The truth will come out.”
Frankie shuffled back to her bed, “You ain’t been a reporter long, have you?”
-----
July 15, 1935
Elizabeth watched silently as the judge swung the gavel. The crack sounded like a gunshot in the courtroom. Loud murmurs filled the air as the spectators began to stand up. The entire town was there, piled in like sardines in a can. The whispers and chatter mixed together in a blur, but the common consensus was clear.
Frankie Stone was found guilty.
Frankie Stone was ordered to prison.
Thank goodness.
Michael Cambias stood next to Erica Kane, accepting congratulations on his bravery for discovering the evil that the town unknowingly harbored and bringing her to justice. People patted his back as Erica nodded, exclaiming how she is happy her daughter’s attacker will get what she deserves. More than one person mentioned that it is good Michael will be joining their business. He is such a fine upstanding gentleman. Erica cannot go wrong in choosing to place her trust in him. Perhaps, he may even be a protector for Bianca long past this horrible ordeal. They would make a lovely couple. Michael laughed it off, but there was a smarmy gleam in his eye that went unnoticed.
They commented how they hoped Erica would pass on their best wishes to Bianca. It is such a sad thing for this to have happened to her, and they pray her fragile nature that has kept her away from the proceedings will be strengthened with the knowledge that she has nothing to fear anymore.
Elizabeth peered over at the defense table. The lawyer was fumbling with his papers and adjusting his spectacles. Beside him sat Frankie, her face stoic, hands chained together. There was a lost hopelessness in her slouched shoulders, though. Unseeing eyes stared off into the distance. The sheriff stood beside her, ready to lift her to her feet and lead her to her cell.
A loud bang cut through the din. Where the gavel was a gunshot, this was an armada of cannons.
Elizabeth set down her notepad, the verdict unhappily scribbled on the page next to highlights of the arguments. There were very few for the defense. She turned to see a haggard Bianca Montgomery, hair wild but eyes determined, swiftly storm past the seats and to the inner sanctum of the courtroom. She ignored her uncle as he moved to intercept her.
She didn’t stop till she was right in front of Frankie.
The shorter woman stood on shaky legs, disbelief etched on her brow.
There was no hesitancy. No moment of waiting. No doubt or need for thought.
Bianca gently cupped Frankie’s face and brought their lips together.
The entire room exploded with gasps and shouts.
Stamp tried to pull Frankie back, but Bianca held her close.
Elizabeth smiled as the clear declaration cut through everything.
“I love you.”
Author: Fabfan
Fandom: All My Children
Pairing: Bianca/Frankie
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Summary: In 1935, intrepid reporter Elizabeth Yates learns what real courage is.
“I wanted you to see something about her-I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do". - Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird
July 7, 1935
The light was dim in the jailhouse. The brick and mortar walls blocked out most of the afternoon sunlight. Only tiny flecks drifted in like specks of dust through the small square iron barred windows high up above. The stench of mildew and sweat hovered in the thick air like a heavy blanket. Wet, hot, and sticky, the building was a miniature furnace in the summer drought with no relief in sight. Not that the town cared one bit. Only criminals lived within these walls, and what relief did they need? None that didn’t involve chains around their wrists or a tight noose around their throats.
Elizabeth Yates, fresh out of Smith College in Massachusetts, had traveled by train to get to the small town of Pine Valley, Pennsylvania. It’d taken more than a day, with having to switch trains at least once in Philadelphia, for her to arrive. She unloaded her traveling case and marched to the local inn. The smartly dressed man behind the desk gave her a funny look when she asked which way to the town’s jail, but he pointed down the road and told her to look for the big block building close to the Courthouse. She gifted him with a pleasant smile and had him store her luggage before marching down in the direction he indicated.
Elizabeth blinked at the heat as the sheriff led her down the rows of empty cells. Her eyes took in every sight, studying the short walkway. With a grunt, the man gestured at the last cell, his uniform stuck to his arm and small stains forming near his armpits. He smacked his baton against the bars loudly with a harsh glare, “You got a visitor.” He glanced at Elizabeth, “You let me know if she causes any trouble. We don’t tolerate that here. I’d suggest you stay back from the bars to be safe.” He smacked the bars again, “If I hear one word out of here about you, you’ll be answering to me. Got it?” He sneered at whoever was on the other side.
“Thank you, Sheriff Stamp.” Elizabeth stepped forward. Her pleasant smile didn’t falter, “I believe we shall be just fine.”
He hesitated a moment with a reluctant look, not wanting to leave this young girl alone with the prisoner. It was what Elizabeth requested, though, and he did have a mountain of paperwork to contend with from this arrest, not least of which was the multitude of messages from certain townsfolk who wanted justice. At her continued smile, he gave her a firm nod and stalked away, baton swinging at his side.
Releasing a breath, Elizabeth pivoted to face the cell. The grip on her notepad and pen tightened unconsciously. The cell was small. Barely enough room for a metal bed and small toilet that was more a hole in the floor than any sort of bathroom fixture. The window was near the ceiling and smaller than a breadbox, causing it to be more dark than light even with the sun out at full strength. On the bed laid a girl, no older than she. Her shaggy light brown hair was twisted away from her face. Her back was up against the stone wall, tattered feet kicked out atop the thin ratty sheet and crossed at the ankle. Her bony frame was easily discernible beneath the threadbare white shirt and tan trousers. The sleeves were rolled up as far as they could go, near about her biceps, and the ends of her trousers slid over the scruff of her dirty boots. Suspenders were buckled in but spread across the bed near her hips instead of braced over her shoulders. Arms crossed casually, as if she were sitting on a rocking chair on her front porch instead of locked alone in the town jail, and an unreadable expression stared back at Elizabeth. Muddy brown eyes watched her. Drank her in without seeming to be invasive. As if this girl didn’t give a damn Elizabeth was there.
Shuffling up to the bars, Elizabeth sat down on the chair left behind from what she assumed was a guard, “Hello.”
The girl didn’t reply. She didn’t even react.
Setting her notepad on her knees, Elizabeth flipped it open, “My name is Ms. Elizabeth Yates. I’m a reporter with the Weekly Chronicle.” It was a small newspaper a few of her friends from college had started upon graduation. Where most prints only sought men for writers, leaving the secretarial work for women, this paper let her go out and write what she wanted. Let her use her education. With three women founders, it was something of an anomaly. “I’ve come to interview you, if that is alright with you.”
Elizabeth peered over to see an eyebrow slowly rise up followed by the twinge of a smirk.
“Would that be suitable to you?” she asked. This was an interesting story she’d heard. Once the gist of it reached her ears, she was booking her train ticket in. However, while this interview could sincerely help both her and the newspaper with readership, it wouldn’t do any good if her companion didn’t cooperate.
The other girl stared at her for a full minute before her smirk grew, “Doesn’t really matter what I find suitable, does it?”
“Pardon?”
The girl uncrossed her ankles, “You want to ask me questions and write about the big bad monster who all your friends in their shiny dresses and sparkling diamonds should be afraid of. Don’t much matter whether it suits me or not, because you’re still going to write it, and they’re still going to read it.”
“I cannot write about an interview I never had.”
“You ain’t been a reporter too long then.”
Her back straightened at the perceived insult, “I would never write about something I did not know to be true.”
A roll of the eyes, “You’ll be the first.”
“Perhaps I am.”
The girl seemed to think this over. Then, she shrugged, “Alright. Ain’t like I got anywhere else to be. Tea time’s not for another hour.”
A spark of elation hit Elizabeth. “Thank you.”
The other girl rolled her shoulders.
Putting pen to paper, Elizabeth readied herself, “To begin, I would like to ask some basic questions about your background, Ms. Stone.”
“Frankie.”
“Pardon?”
“Call me Frankie.”
Elizabeth frowned, “Your name is Mary-Francis Stone, is it not?”
“I go by Frankie, madam reporter.”
“Very well, Frankie.” Elizabeth continued, “You worked for a Ms. Opal Cortlandt in her barber shop and salon. Is that correct?”
Frankie blinked, “Yeah, I did whatever needed to be done. Kept the place clean. Fixed something if it broke. That sort of thing.”
“And you rented a room in Ms. Cortlandt’s home?”
“Yes.”
“When did you first come to Pine Valley?”
“Few years ago.” Frankie scratched at the side of her neck, “Seemed like a good enough place to stay. There was…I liked it here.”
“Do you have a lot of friends?”
Frankie made a show of looking around, “Rats aren’t too bad of pals, I guess.”
Elizabeth cracked a smile, “Of the human variety.”
“Knew some people. No one who’d own up to it now, but I spent some time with ‘em.”
“What did you do with your spare time?”
Frankie shifted on the bed, “Just ask what ya want to ask. You don’t give a damn about my life.”
Elizabeth lifted her head from where she’d been watching the tip of the pen scribble. She tightened her grip on the pen and looked at Frankie, “Why did you rape Bianca Montgomery.”
Frankie went rigid. Her entire body went stiff as a board. Any form of expression dropped form her face. It was when she turned her head to the side that Elizabeth saw it. A streak of agonizing pain swept through her eyes and forced her throat to bob. The room went silent.
Then, as if being stuck by a hot poker, Frankie leapt to her feet. Her hand clasped the back of her neck as a shaky breath streamed from her pinched lips. Her voice was hard, but an undercurrent of emotion surprised Elizabeth, “Well now, that’s a question, isn’t it?”
Elizabeth watched her pace back and forth the few steps between the bed and the farthest wall. Her back was turned when she spoke again, “What’s the other reporters saying? What’s my story?”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows knit together, “The prosecution has provided us with what happened, as have a few residents. Bianca Montgomery was traveling alone one evening. She had errands to run in Llanview. You followed her. You lured her to a field outside of town. You pretended to need her assistance with something, and her good will and kindness made her trust you. You overpowered her and forced yourself on her.” It was said to be the most disgusting form of moral depravity to ever occur within Pennsylvania’s borders. “She returned home after your attack. She was terrified of you retaliating and stayed quiet for a few weeks. She gained her courage and informed the police of your conduct. They arrested you soon after.”
During the speech, Frankie simply stood there, listening. As Elizabeth finished, her head shook, dipping slightly as it did so, “Not much more to it, is there?”
“I want to know why you did it.” It haunted Elizabeth. That one question. No one as of yet gave her an answer she fully believed or agreed with.
Frankie turned, a mocking lilt to her words, “Why?”
“Yes, why. Why would you…do that to another woman?”
“Haven’t you heard, madam reporter? I’m sure the other people in this town have said it enough. This is the first time in days I haven’t hear them yelling it through the window.” She waved her hand, “I’m a sick perverted deviant. It’s what we do.”
There was something off about the villainous smile, “Why her?”
Frankie’s hand dropped to her side. She walked up to the bars and wrapped her hands around them. Up close, Elizabeth noticed the fading bruises marring her face and neck, the blue-ish tinge treading down beneath her shirt. “I wanted her. I wanted to touch her. Hear her scream. I put my mouth all over her.”
Elizabeth felt the urge to move back, but she refused to.
Frankie pressed up against the bars, “I wanted to show her that I could be better than any fella she had trailing after her. It felt damn good, too.”
“You wanted Bianca Montgomery.”
“Yeah, I did. I wanted my hands on her as she called my name.”
Elizabeth stood up. One thing her friends and professors always said about her - she was smart. Book smart. People smart. It made her a great student and a fine reporter. Frankie wasn’t lying.
But, she wasn’t telling the truth, either.
Elizabeth could feel it in her gut.
“Why her?”
Frankie licked her lips, “I like girls with big brown eyes. I’m a sucker for ‘em.”
“I see.” She sucked on her teeth, “One more question.”
“What’s that? Want to know how she tasted?”
“Why isn’t Bianca Montgomery here?”
Frankie frowned, clearly not expecting that, “What?”
“Why is Bianca Montgomery away in Paris, France?” Elizabeth had discovered this gem of information while doing what quick research she could before getting the interview she wanted.
“Why should I know?”
“Don’t you think it a bit odd she’s not around for your trial?”
“Maybe she likes the weather there better.”
“She chooses weather over seeing the woman who forced her to have sex sent to prison?”
Frankie blinked owlishly. Obviously, this was not the type of reporter or gal she was anticipating.
Elizabeth kept going, “The prosecution says she is too scarred from the ordeal to participate. Seeing you again would cause her undue pain.”
“You got an answer, why you asking me?”
“Because I find it interesting the victim isn’t around to condemn her accused.”
“My lucky day.” Frankie unhooked her hands from the bars and moved back.
“Did you ever talk to Bianca before the incident?”
“Oh yeah, we shared tips on how to get a guy to notice us.” Frankie sneered. “I told her I’d teach her how to kiss him.”
Elizabeth closed her notepad, “How did you get her to follow you?”
“You already said. I acted like I needed help.”
“Yes, I did say that.” She set the notepad and pen on the chair, “Now, what do you say?”
“What?” Frankie leaned her shoulder against the wall, “You screwy in the head or something?”
“Did you know Bianca Montgomery prior to attacking her? Yes or no?”
“Everyone knows her.”
“How well did you know her?”
“What? Is this an interrogation? The coppers already got my statement.”
“Yes, and you said nothing to them.”
“Nothing to say.”
Elizabeth pressed her hand against the bars, “The prosecution says you overpowered Bianca.”
“Yeah, so?”
She snorted, “You’re quite small.”
Frankie bristled, “I’m stronger than I look. Come closer and I’ll show ya how strong I can be. I’m sure ol’ Stamp’ll let you in for a quick hello.”
“So strong she waited weeks to tell the police for fear you’d retaliate. Then, she ran off to Paris to hide from you.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Except for a few details.” There were three reasons Elizabeth was tracking this story. One, was to help build up the newspaper and her own credentials by reporting on a story the public would salivate over. Two, was the facts.
They didn’t add up.
“Bianca Montgomery’s ticket to Paris was purchased over a month before you attacked her.” The bar pressed into the palm of her hand, “She left two days before the police were told of it all.”
Frankie straightened up, “You got your facts wrong.”
“It’s in the records. I looked them all up. The ship company will tell you the same if you telephoned them right now.” She surveyed Frankie’s face for any reaction, “Her return ticket is due to have her arrive one week from tomorrow. One week from the start of your trial. A trial that, by all accounts, should take no more than a few days at most. If convicted, you will most likely be transported to prison the day she returns to Pine Valley.”
Frankie swiped at her nose before scratching at her scalp. Her eyes averted from Elizabeth’s.
“Homosexual conduct is a crime. For a homosexual to force someone to commit homosexual acts is a terrible deplorable thing to do. You are accused of forcing Bianca Montgomery to fulfill your homosexual fantasies.”
“I know what I’m accused of.” Frankie bit out.
Elizabeth calmly spoke as if she hadn’t interrupted, “Are you a homosexual, Frankie?”
Frankie’s heel tapped against the concrete floor, “What’s it to ya?”
“Are you?”
Frankie lifted her head, “I am.” Her face was defiant but her voice belayed the trickle of fear admitting such a secret entailed. “I’m a damn homosexual who fantasizes about having sex with women.”
“Is Bianca?”
Frankie started at that. Her eyes narrowed in anger and her hands clenched into fists, “What the hell you trying to do here?”
“Is Bianca a homosexual?”
“You need to get the hell out of this town.” Frankie slapped her fist against her chest, “I did it. I forced Bianca to have sex with me. I wanted it. I am a homosexual, and I damn well made her touch me because that’s what I wanted.”
Elizabeth swallowed roughly at the fiery blaze in the prisoner’s eyes.
A blaze of desperation and fear.
“You got your damn story. Leave me the hell alone.” Frankie moved to her bed.
“There was nothing to say you would ever attack someone.” Elizabeth pushed on. “I spoke with Opal Cortlandt by telephone before arriving here. She is a very nice woman.”
Frankie spun around so fast she nearly stumbled.
“She agreed to meet with me after I leave here today. She was kind enough to answer a few of my questions before we disconnected the call.”
Frankie stormed up to the bars, anger burning off her in waves.
Elizabeth took a half step back, “She said you were a good employee. You always arrived on time and stayed later than needed to help her. You did not cause a fuss while living in her home. You even went so far as to watch her young son from time to time, walking him to school a few days a week and spending time with him. She said you were not the most polished gem, but your roughness was only one small part of you. Behind the bluster was a good person.”
Frankie griped the bars so hard her knuckles were white as snow.
“She said no one in town really minded you. You were new to the place, but most people let you be. Except two.” She took a breath, “Erica Kane - Bianca’s mother, was one of them.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Frankie spat.
“Erica Kane never liked you. Not since she first met you. She even wished for Opal Cortlandt to not hire you.”
“You need to stop.”
“Interesting how the mother of the woman you supposedly raped is the only one who despised you.”
“Maybe that’s why I did it.” Frankie growled, “To get back at that bitch.”
“Or maybe she didn’t like you because she knew something about you. Something about her daughter. Something you shared.”
“Shut your mouth.” Frankie snarled.
Elizabeth paused for a moment, letting the moment cool down, “You refused a lawyer. Why?”
“Can’t afford one.”
“The state has provided you with one, but you refused to see him.”
“No need.”
“Because you’ll be convicted?” Frankie all but admitted to the crime when arrested.
“The police caught their criminal.”
“Do you want to be convicted?”
“Sure. I dream of spending my life in prison.” Frankie sarcastically replied. Her eyes hardened, “No one wants to defend a deviant homosexual rapist. Whatever louse they get to stand in like a puppet is as good as nothing. No use wasting my time pretending like talking to one would do any good. This town’s already hung me, what’s the difference now?”
Elizabeth felt an unsettling in the pit of her stomach. The words were coated in aloofness, but their meaning was anything but. “Was anyone else out there that day? Anyone who saw you commit your crime?” Word was a Mr. Michael Cambias, a businessman who was in the process of negotiating with the Montgomery’s business, reported the incident to both Erica Kane and then the police. He told Erica Kane her daughter was taken advantage of by the one person Erica hated. The police were at Frankie’s door within hours. It seemed their handiwork still painted Frankie’s flesh.
“Hell if I know.”
“Do you know who reportedly saw you?”
The hardened eyes were pure stone, “Cambias.”
“He is the other person you did not see eye to eye with in town.”
Frankie’s fingers dug into the metal of the bars.
“It’s said you had a spat with him one night outside the Inn. You threw a punch.”
“Woulda thrown more if that copper didn’t show up.”
“Why?”
“Thought he’d look good with a shiner.”
Elizabeth felt the barely tempered rage boiling beneath the tense flesh. There was a story Frankie wasn’t telling her. But, there was a more pressing issue she needed to face, and the sheriff warned the reporter her visiting time was limited. She took a breath before asking the question she knew needed to be asked, and no one else had.
“Do you love her?”
Frankie’s hold slackened, “Huh?”
“Do you love Bianca?”
Frankie’s eyebrows furrowed, and her breathing subtly increased in pace.
There were three reasons Elizabeth was drawn to Frankie’s plight. Readership. The Facts.
And Understanding.
“I have a friend. We met at university.” Elizabeth explained softly. “We are very close. Like sisters. One day, I found her sitting with another girl from our class. They were kissing. My friend later told me she loved her. She would do anything for her. Love makes you do things you never thought you would. Sometimes, those things are good. Sometimes, they’re not.”
“What’re you getting at?”
Elizabeth snagged her notepad and opened it to the back. She slid out the telegram hidden there. Clearing her throat, she read gently, “This is all a mistake. Stop. I will be on the first ship home. Stop. Tell her I love her. Stop. Signed Bianca Montgomery.”
Frankie was shaking so hard the bars clanged, “No.”
Elizabeth glanced over the telegram.
Frankie shook her head, “When did that come in? When!”
“She arrived this morning. She’ll be here any minute.”
“No!” Frankie yanked at the bars, “What have you done?”
“My friend’s name is Leslie. She is a friend of Bianca’s.”
“You don’t know what you’ve done.” the rush of anger receded from her body, replaced with pain.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth lowered the telegram.
Frankie continued to shake her head. With one final smack against the bars she stumbled back. Her hands went to her face. Her palms rubbed harshly against her cheeks and eyes.
Voices at the end of the corridor caught their attention. Elizabeth tilted her head to see a flash of dark hair and heels.
Bianca Montgomery was all but running past the cells, the sheriff staring after her dumbfounded.
“Frankie!” Bianca cried out, wide eyes landing on Elizabeth. The reporter stepped to the side as Bianca slid to a halt beside her, “Frankie.”
Frankie’s hands dropped, “No, Bianca. You can’t be here.”
Bianca went up to the bars, shouting over her shoulder, “Let her out!” She faced Frankie, “Franks.”
“No,” Frankie held up a hand. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m not letting you stay in here. You did nothing wrong.” She yelled over her shoulder again, “Sheriff!”
Frankie surged up to the bars, grasping the front of Bianca’s shirt, “Quiet!” She curled her fingers in the fabric, “You should not be here.”
“And where should I be? Across an ocean while you sit here in jail?” Her eyes were wet, “They think you forced me to make love?”
Frankie’s eyes darted over Bianca’s face, “It’s the only way.”
“No, it’s not. It’s not a way at all.”
“It’s too late.”
“No it is not!”
“No one can know about you. About this. We agreed.”
Bianca rested her hands on top of Frankie’s, “I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if they know. I’m not letting you go to jail because I fell in love with you.”
“I care.”
“This is not your decision to make.”
“It never was.” Her voice became choked. “You really were something, ya know.”
“What…Frankie.” Her gaze darted back and forth, searching Frankie’s eyes, “It’ll be ok. I’ll clear this all up.”
“Too late for that, sweetheart.” was whispered right as Stamp marched up to the trio. His large hand landed on Bianca’s shoulder, and he roughly yanked her back, placing himself between her and the cell.
His baton crashed against the bars, forcing Frankie to pull back. Bianca opened her mouth to speak, but an arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her back down the corridor. She glanced away from Frankie to see a worried face peering down at her, “Uncle Jack?”
“Come on, Bianca.” He ushered her away.
“No, Uncle Jack. No!” she twisted in his grip.
“I told you no trouble!” Stamp shouted as he pointed his baton at Frankie with glacial coldness.
“Just a little chat, Stamp.” Frankie smirked arrogantly, but her gaze was tracking Bianca.
Bianca struggled in her Uncle’s grip until she saw Frankie’s look. Pursing her lips, she lifted her chin and allowed herself to be pulled away. There was a hint of defiance in her stride, though.
Elizabeth had a feeling Jackson Montgomery, District Attorney and uncle to Bianca Montgomery, was about to hear the victim’s side of the story.
The reporter’s attention was drawn back to the cell as Stamp turned to her, “I think it’s about time for that interview to be done.”
“Please,” she couldn’t leave now, “there’s a few more questions I need to ask. Only a few more, Sherriff Stamp.”
Stamp mulled it over before hooking a thumb over his shoulder, “It ain’t safe for a lady like yourself to be alone with her. A few more, but I’m staying.”
He couldn’t. There was no way Frankie Stone would talk with the sheriff there. “I will be fine. She is locked behind those bars, and I will stay back. I promise. I think it best if you see to Ms. Montgomery. She may need to speak with you.”
Hearing a slight crash come from the other end of the building, Stamp nodded, “Stay back. Out of reach, you got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
He trudged away, baton swinging at his side.
Elizabeth quickly faced Frankie, but the young woman was slumped against the wall, face downcast. Whatever bravado and cockiness inhabited her body before was now gone. “Frankie?”
“She’s gonna have to watch me go to jail.” Her voice shook, “Because of you, she’s gonna watch them lock me up for the rest of my life. And, they’re going to say it’s because of her.”
The unsettling in her stomach churned violently, “I am sure that is not the case. She is in there right now telling them this is a mistake. It will be taken care of. The facts point to it. You are not guilty.”
Frankie’s head lifted. The depressed resignation of her features was startling, “They won’t believe her.”
“She is the supposed victim. Of course they will believe what she has to say.”
“Believe the stories of a girl who ran away she was so terrified of my retaliation? Who came back when she heard I was going to jail and after talking with me says I didn’t do it? Reporters really that dumb?” She scoffed, “Here’s how this plays out, word slinger. They’ll tell her she’s under a lot of stress. That I scared her enough to say whatever it is she’s saying. She’ll tell them she loves me. That she told me to be at that field. She kissed me. No one will believe good sweet virtuous Bianca Montgomery would ever do such a thing. Bianca Montgomery would never do such things with a woman. No, she’s just rattled by the homosexual.” She took a breath, “They’ll take me to court tomorrow. Bianca will sit there and watch as they trot out a whole bunch of people who say I’m a bad person. The whole town will whisper about how sad it is this happened to the poor girl. If she tries to say anything, they’ll say it’s because of me. Sweet Bianca is fragile and shouldn’t be around all this mess. They’ll keep her away. She’ll try to fight, but she’ll be outnumbered.”
Elizabeth felt the sting of tears.
“Michael Cambias will be the star witness. The hero. He’ll tell them how he saw me force myself on her. Took away her innocence. He won’t say how he tried to corner Bianca the night I hit him. How I know he’s only playing nice to get the family’s business. They’re all going to think he’s the swellest guy in town.”
Her jaw dropped. Michael Cambias attempted to corner Bianca?
“Yeah, funny ain’t it? Guess he won after all.” She swallowed thickly, “The judge is going to lock me up for life. I’ll be the most hated person in the state. Pine Valley already hates me, won’t take much for the rest of ‘em. Bianca…she’s only gonna hate herself.” She stared at Elizabeth, “You bringing her back means she’s gotta watch all this happen. She woulda missed it all. I’da been gone by the time she got back. Now, she has to live it all.”
“No, that is not going to happen. The truth will come out.”
Frankie shuffled back to her bed, “You ain’t been a reporter long, have you?”
-----
July 15, 1935
Elizabeth watched silently as the judge swung the gavel. The crack sounded like a gunshot in the courtroom. Loud murmurs filled the air as the spectators began to stand up. The entire town was there, piled in like sardines in a can. The whispers and chatter mixed together in a blur, but the common consensus was clear.
Frankie Stone was found guilty.
Frankie Stone was ordered to prison.
Thank goodness.
Michael Cambias stood next to Erica Kane, accepting congratulations on his bravery for discovering the evil that the town unknowingly harbored and bringing her to justice. People patted his back as Erica nodded, exclaiming how she is happy her daughter’s attacker will get what she deserves. More than one person mentioned that it is good Michael will be joining their business. He is such a fine upstanding gentleman. Erica cannot go wrong in choosing to place her trust in him. Perhaps, he may even be a protector for Bianca long past this horrible ordeal. They would make a lovely couple. Michael laughed it off, but there was a smarmy gleam in his eye that went unnoticed.
They commented how they hoped Erica would pass on their best wishes to Bianca. It is such a sad thing for this to have happened to her, and they pray her fragile nature that has kept her away from the proceedings will be strengthened with the knowledge that she has nothing to fear anymore.
Elizabeth peered over at the defense table. The lawyer was fumbling with his papers and adjusting his spectacles. Beside him sat Frankie, her face stoic, hands chained together. There was a lost hopelessness in her slouched shoulders, though. Unseeing eyes stared off into the distance. The sheriff stood beside her, ready to lift her to her feet and lead her to her cell.
A loud bang cut through the din. Where the gavel was a gunshot, this was an armada of cannons.
Elizabeth set down her notepad, the verdict unhappily scribbled on the page next to highlights of the arguments. There were very few for the defense. She turned to see a haggard Bianca Montgomery, hair wild but eyes determined, swiftly storm past the seats and to the inner sanctum of the courtroom. She ignored her uncle as he moved to intercept her.
She didn’t stop till she was right in front of Frankie.
The shorter woman stood on shaky legs, disbelief etched on her brow.
There was no hesitancy. No moment of waiting. No doubt or need for thought.
Bianca gently cupped Frankie’s face and brought their lips together.
The entire room exploded with gasps and shouts.
Stamp tried to pull Frankie back, but Bianca held her close.
Elizabeth smiled as the clear declaration cut through everything.
“I love you.”