They say lies and secrets are the quickest way to break someone's trust. We all likely have secrets hidden away from the world. Secrets that we keep to spare someone unbearable hurt or secrets that we're too ashamed for someone to know and fear being judged. Or secrets simply to escape trouble or feel the rush in getting away with something. In other cases, secrets to pleasantly surprise someone or when we must keep a secret because it's someone else's and not ours to share. 
It's 6:45 am and a quiet morning. Sipping masala chai, I wait expectantly and half-asleep, for Christy's usual text. Buzz. And there it is. "Hey, Diya. I'm a few minutes away." 
Continuing with my Tuesday morning rituals for the past 18 months, I slowly tiptoe into my bedroom and hear the almost in sync snores of my husband and toddler as they lay in the same position, sprawled on the bed. Giving them both multiple air kisses so as not to wake them, I make my way to the front door hallway, halfway stopping by a mirror to take one last look at my tired face. I run my fingers through my tangled split-ended hair, pinch some youth into my cheeks, and force a smile that I feel only really looks this pretty from a side angle, so I only really look at myself from this angle every time. 
Opening Christy's text, I quickly tap, "Waiting outside. See you soon!" and exit the front door. 
As soon as the open air touches my face, I'm slammed with a biting chill. I immediately wish I was in bed under the cozy, warm covers with my family. How can anyone wake up this early to start their day? Well, I don't really have a choice, although I'm considering faking a stomachache and calling in sick. 
But before I can make up my mind, bright headlights fall onto the overgrown Shasta daisies that now look like weeds rather than flowers in front of my porch. We really should have given each seed some space and attention, I think. 
Stepping up into the spotless white SUV, I'm greeted with a beaming smile of equally white teeth. "Ready for our last day of jury duty?" Christy asks with a cheer. 
"Ready as ever!" I chime back, and Christy begins her hour-long ramble in the carpool lane about her side business, how many get-togethers she hosted since the last time we met a week ago, how much money she has, and guesses on what the cases will be like today with occasional questions to me but just ends up being encouraged more to keep talking by my nods, mm-hmms, and ohs. 
18 months ago, we were picked to be on the grand jury with 17 other strangers. We were told we're not deciding whether someone is guilty, only to determine if there is "probable cause" or that the prosecutor has enough evidence to reasonably consider that the defendant may have committed a federal crime. And the most important rule of all, do not speak of any cases outside of the grand jury room. 
I remember how upset I was on the day of jury selection, when I shared news about the long-term time commitment of this civic duty to Sameer. 
"Grand jury? Never heard of it... And how long is this for? 18 months you said? That's really..." The sound of disbelief in his voice blended easily with his usual lack of words when he expressed his emotions. 
"I'm feeling sad..." my voice trailed off and tears welled in my eyes. I was disheartened because I went part time for 2 days per week so that I can spend extra time with my toddler. But this had turned into 3 days per week with, quite literally, two jobs... with one that does not pay enough for my time away from my toddler. 
After each of the initial days, Sameer would ask me, "So what kind of cases did you have today?" He'd find different ways to prod information out of me and out of curiosity. 
"I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you, but I can't" I would say with guilt mixed in with uncertainty because I usually shared with him about every part of my day. Sameer would then wrap me in his arms and give the conversation a playful turn. "Hey, you think they'll ask you to be a secret agent after this?" He winked. "What am I saying... If you're in the CIA now, you probably can't tell me."  
I'd play along, but then I'd start to feel strangely uncomfortable. Really, I have never needed to keep secrets from Sameer until this. We're usually reserved people but over time, Sameer's questioning ceased to nothing along with the amount of time we spent together. And my comfort in keeping silent grew because he didn't seem to show interest much in how my day was going. If I was doing anything in secrecy outside of jury duty, I don't think he would have noticed. So, I continued using my personal time hanging out with my toddler doing toddler things. Unexpectedly though, I came to enjoy jury duty and to learn about the inside words and the hows of committing crimes. 
I remember sitting idly nearby several times, looking over at Sameer and wondering how much invisible distance has come between us. "You've been staring at the screen for 2 straight hours. Don't you want to take a break?" I nudged. Sameer had changed jobs during my grand jury time, and slowly he retreated into a black hole of data, screen time, and fixing mistakes the AI feature made. He assured me his workload was only temporary. 
Sameer, unblinking and with eyes glued to the screen, replied, "I need to get this done. Just a few more minutes, Diya." I nodded, knowing full well the few more minutes just translated to a few more hours. 
"Hey... Heyyy. Diya." A chirpy voice breaks my thoughts. "How much was the interest and down payment on your home?" Christy waves her hand in front of me, and I could smell a heavy, nauseating perfume wafting in the air and bringing me back to my senses. 
"I think it was 2.9% and umm... $200,000 down payment," I answer with a touch of confidence and add a nod for good measure. Truth is, I am really not sure. Christy gives me a sideways glance, and I could tell what she is thinking. I can just imagine. Diya, you really should be more informed where your money is and where it's going. You are completely ignorant. And not in a blissful way. You—- 
"Ahh, I see! You and Sameer bought it in a buyer's market!" Christy exclaims and continues to rattle on about finances, the very least interesting topic to me. 
We take an exit and slowly roll through the traffic in San Francisco. The way the houses are so close together makes me feel suffocated. Ever since starting jury duty, my perspective on SF and the people I see in public had taken a turn into questioning how much we can really know about someone from the surface and whether they hold any dark or dangerous secrets that impact the people around them. 
"Do you think they'll finish up that case about the hacker? I would really like to end this service with some closure." Christy clucks her tongue as the light turns red. She makes a left turn into the parking garage as the blast of a horn echoes behind us. 
With only a few minutes to spare, we reach the jury room and sit down into our plush chairs. A friendly prosecutor greets us with a crooked smile. I look down at the thick packet of our case, and the letters blur on the page. My heart drops a beat, and I feel a chill that was not there a second ago, accompanied with a sick feeling in my stomach. 
The prosecutor adjusts his glasses, and his warm smile fades to a line. "By a show of hands, do any of the grand jury members know, or have a personal or business connection, with the defendant Sameer Chandra Rao?" 
The letters come back into focus: 
United States of America v. Sameer Chandra Rao 
Count 1. Wire fraud 
Count 2. Conspiracy to commit wire fraud 
Count 3: Money laundering 
Count 4. Identity theft 
Compared to the shake of heads and bored looks in my neighbors' eyes, my world was collapsing at 70mph. I have eyes, but I've been blind. I raise my hand but before the prosecutor can tell me to kindly leave, I beeline my way out the room as I hear murmurs suddenly buzz around me and feel the burning gazes of the jurors who will decide if there's enough evidence to charge my husband.