Chapter 338

TIMOTHY POV

Timothy sat alone in his cramped cell, the dull gray walls closing in around him like a vice. His mind raced with thoughts of his impending court appearance, the uncertainty of his future weighing heavily on his shoulders. But as the hours ticked by, a glimmer of hope pierced through the darkness, a beacon of light in his bleak existence.

The next morning, Timothy was roused from his restless sleep by the sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor. He watched with bated breath as the metal door of his cell swung open, revealing a familiar face standing on the threshold.

"Mr. Wilkes?" Timothy exclaimed, his voice tinged with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The lawyer offered him a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth. "I'm here to deliver some good news, Timothy," he replied, his voice filled with quiet assurance. "Your brother has decided to pay for your bail this time."

Timothy's eyes widened in shock, disbelief washing over him like a tidal wave. "Andy?" he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But why would he do such a thing for me?"

Mr. Wilkes shrugged, a knowing glint in his eyes. "I suppose he believes in your innocence," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "In any case, you'll be brought to court later today so you can be released on bail again."

As Timothy processed the news, a surge of gratitude welled up within him, warming his heart like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to hope, to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there was still a chance for redemption.

But as he considered his options, another thought occurred to him, a kernel of truth buried beneath the layers of doubt and uncertainty. "Mr. Wilkes," he began, his voice hesitant yet determined. "There's something I need to tell you."

The lawyer arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "What is it, Timothy? You can tell me anything."

Timothy took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to reveal. "One of the other inmates told me about Mia Robins," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "He said she has a history of fake personas and murder."

Mr. Wilkes frowned, his expression clouded with skepticism. "Timothy, fabricating stories won't lighten your sentence," he admonished, his tone firm yet gentle. "You need to focus on building a strong defense, not spreading rumors."

But Timothy shook his head, his frustration bubbling to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. "But it's true!" he exclaimed, his voice rising with anger. "I heard it from someone who knows her, who's seen what she's capable of!"

The lawyer sighed, his patience wearing thin. "Timothy, I understand that you're under a lot of stress, but-"

"No, you don't understand!" Timothy interjected, his voice cracking with emotion. "You don't know what it's like to be trapped in here, surrounded by people who want to tear you down at every turn! I need you to believe me, to help me prove that I'm innocent!"

Mr. Wilkes regarded him with a mixture of sympathy and frustration, his expression softening with understanding. "I'll look into it, Timothy," he promised, his voice gentle yet resolute. "But for now, you need to focus on staying strong and preparing for your court appearance. We'll get through this together, I promise."

The heavy metal door clanged shut behind Timothy as he stepped back into his dimly lit cell, the sound echoing in the empty corridor like a final, resounding verdict. He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the overwhelming sense of disappointment that threatened to engulf him. The promise of freedom had been within his grasp, only to slip away once more like sand through his fingers.

With a heavy sigh, Timothy sank onto the narrow cot, his eyes fixed on the barred window high above. The soft glow of the fading daylight cast long shadows across the barren walls.

He leaned back against the cold stone wall, his thoughts drifting to the upcoming bail hearing. It was his last chance at freedom, his final opportunity to plead his case before the judge. It may even be the last time he saw Evie if she would even be there.

He wouldn’t blame her if she decided to save face and not show up. His reputation was screwed up enough. He didn’t want her going down too.

As the minutes stretched into hours, the weight of uncertainty settled over him like a heavy blanket, smothering his hopes with each passing moment.

Outside his cell, the sounds of the prison echoed faintly through the walls. Voices drifted down the corridor, muted and indistinct, mingling with the occasional clatter of metal against metal. Amidst the chaos, Timothy had to remain resolute.

His gaze fixed on the door, he waited patiently for his chance at redemption.

Timothy stood in the center of the courtroom, his heart pounding like a drumbeat in his chest. The air was thick with tension, the murmurs of the crowd swirling around him like a storm of condemnation. Faces twisted with anger stared back at him, their voices rising in a cacophony of outrage.

"Lock him up!" someone shouted, their voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. "He doesn't deserve to walk free!"

The judge's gavel pounded against the wooden desk, a sharp rap that echoed through the room like thunder. "Order in the court!" he bellowed, his voice commanding attention. "I will not tolerate any disruptions!"

Timothy clenched his fists, his jaw set with determination as he waited for the judge's decision. Every second felt like an eternity, the weight of his fate pressing down on him like a leaden weight. But as the judge delivered his ruling, a wave of relief washed over him like a tidal wave.

"Timothy Hayes," the judge intoned, his voice grave yet authoritative. "After careful consideration of the evidence presented, I have decided to release you on bail once more."

The crowd erupted into chaos, their cries of outrage drowned out by shouts of disbelief. But as Timothy gathered his things and made his way out of the courtroom, a sense of freedom washed over him. He had another chance, and it was the last one he’d waste.

As he stepped out into the sunlight, he reached for his phone, his fingers trembling with anticipation. He dialed Andy's number, his heart racing as he waited for his brother to answer.

"Timothy?" Andy's voice crackled over the line, filled with concern. "Is everything okay?"

Timothy took a deep breath, his voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within him. "I'm free," he said, his words tinged with disbelief. "The judge ruled in my favor."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, as if Andy was processing the news. "That's great, Timothy," he said, his voice filled with relief. "I'm glad to hear it. Sorry, I couldn’t be there. I’m out of this place."

"You left?" Timothy pressed the phone closer to his ear, his eyebrows creased. “When did you leave? Why?”

“Slow down.” Andy said, then hesitated for a moment before answering. "I haven't left yet," he then admitted. "Evie and I are planning on stopping Kamran and Mia from eloping."

Timothy's heart skipped a beat, his mind racing with questions. "When were they even talking about marriage?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Andy sighed, the weight of the world evident in his voice. "It doesn't matter," he replied, his tone firm yet resigned. "Mia could kill our father and take everything he has once she's taken on our name."

Timothy's breath caught in his throat, the gravity of Andy's words hitting him like a freight train. "I'm coming along," he declared, his voice filled with determination.

But Andy's response was swift and unwavering. "You can't," he insisted, his voice tinged with urgency. "Leaving the country could break your bail again."

But Timothy shook his head, his resolve unyielding. "I'm not letting Evie and you go at it alone," he said, his voice firm with conviction. "We're in this together, Andy. No matter what."