"Because of the video," he said after a moment. "Then let the video do its work," she answered. She reached for his hand, held it briefly, and reminded him that he was not the only person in the family who knew how to remain brave in a difficult room. Jackson smiled despite himself and asked if that was permission to stop sitting with his shoulders at attention.
Meanwhile, the courthouse corridors filled with reporters, lawyers, and courthouse employees moving through their lunch hour. Bradley hurried toward a conference room with Stanton, while O'Connor asked Reed to wait so they could speak privately about the morning's testimony. Reed said he needed the restroom first. He walked away quickly, not because he expected a confrontation, but because the sound of Beatrice crying on the recorded call had made him feel physically sick.
In the men's room, he turned on the cold water and splashed his face. The fluorescent light above the mirror showed every sign of the sleepless weeks he had tried to conceal. He gripped the sink and heard his own voice in his memory shouting that Beatrice had a weapon. The video had shown what his report did not: he had called out a threat he had not actually seen.
The door opened, and Jackson Hayes entered. He had left his mother with Ada and was simply looking for a quiet place away from the crowded hallway. For an instant, both men froze at the unexpected encounter. Reed recognized the face from the gallery, and Jackson recognized the man whose recorded voice had come from the passenger side of the Corolla.
"We thought she had a gun," Reed said before he could stop himself. Jackson looked at him for several seconds, then turned toward the sink and washed his hands. He did not step closer, block the door, or raise his voice. "I wasn't there," he said. "I know what she told me, and I've seen the recording. The rest belongs in that courtroom."
Reed stared at the mirror. He had expected anger, perhaps even the threat Bradley had tried to suggest in court, but the quiet refusal to argue unsettled him more. "She was scared," he said, hardly aware he had spoken. Jackson dried his hands and answered that Beatrice had been frightened enough to call her son from a station where she should have been able to ask for help.
"I can't talk about your case," Jackson added. "You have a lawyer, and my mother deserves a fair trial of the facts." He placed the paper towel in the wastebasket and left without another word. Reed remained by the sink, listening to the water run, and realized that the only person who had used the encounter to invent a threat was himself.
Jackson told Patricia about the accidental meeting as soon as he returned to the hallway. He did not want the defense to claim that he had approached a defendant secretly or interfered with the case, and Patricia informed Clark. The prosecutor made a note of the encounter and took care not to discuss it with Reed directly. Jackson accepted that even a harmless conversation could become another argument if someone wanted badly enough to make it one.