Chapter 6 - The Courtroom
The courtroom smelled of polished wood and stale anxiety.
I sat next to Mara at the plaintiff's table, wearing a crisp white suit. My bruises had faded to a pale yellow, easily hidden by a light layer of foundation, but I chose to wear no makeup today. I wanted the judge to see the remnants of what Daniel had done.
Daniel sat across the aisle. He looked awful. His hair lacked its usual shine, his suit hung a little loosely on his frame, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed sleepless nights. Evelyn sat behind him in the gallery, clutching a tissue, shooting me poisonous glares whenever the judge wasn't looking.
Daniel’s defense attorney, a slick man named Vance, tried his best to paint a picture of a troubled marriage rather than abuse.
"Your Honor, my client is a respected professional with no prior criminal record," the lawyer argued, pacing before the bench. "What we have here is a highly emotional dispute regarding his mother’s living arrangements. Mrs. Vance has a history of erratic behavior. We argue that the injuries were sustained during a mutual scuffle, initiated by the plaintiff herself."
Mara didn't object. She just let him talk, letting him dig a deep, comfortable hole.
When it was our turn, Mara stood up. "Your Honor, the defense claims this was a 'mutual scuffle.' We would like to enter Exhibit A into evidence."
The video was cast onto the screen on the wall.
The courtroom fell dead silent.
The hidden camera footage was crystal clear, capturing the hallway and the doorway to the bedroom. On the screen, Daniel’s face was twisted in a snarl. I was backed against the wall, my hands raised defensively.
“You will obey me in my house,” Daniel’s voice echoed through the courtroom speakers, dripping with entitlement and malice.
Then, the strike.
The sound of his hand connecting with my face was shockingly loud in the quiet room. On screen, my head snapped to the side, and I crumpled to the floor. Daniel didn't look horrified. He didn't try to help me up. He just stood over me, adjusted his cuffs, and walked away.
I didn't look at the screen. I looked at the judge.
The judge, a stern woman in her sixties, stared at the frozen image on the screen, her jaw set tight. She slowly turned her gaze to Daniel. The disgust in her eyes was palpable.
Daniel had shrunk into his chair, staring at the table. He couldn't look up. The illusion of the charming, successful architect was dead, burned to ash by thirty seconds of high-definition truth.
"Mr. Vance," the judge said, her voice cutting through the room like a whip. "The court grants the permanent restraining order. Furthermore, given the severity of the assault and your repeated violations of the temporary order via phone, bail is revoked pending your criminal trial."
The bailiff moved immediately, stepping up behind Daniel.
"No, wait, please!" Daniel panicked, looking back at his mother. "Mom! Do something!"
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Evelyn wailed as the bailiff put the cuffs on her son.
I stood up, gathering my purse. I didn't look back as I walked out of the courtroom. The air outside felt lighter, cleaner. I took a deep breath, letting the city noise wash over me. The hardest part was over.
