Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Now, I know what you must be thinking,” I added quickly. “Why didn’t I bring these photos to the police? Why didn’t I report my husband, who then became my ex-husband? Why did I sit in silence for so long?
“It may seem stupid to you. It may seem calculative. I’m sure there are many names one might think to call me — weak, liar, bitter, scorned. But the truth, Your Honor, is that as much as it pains me to admit it… I was just scared.”
I looked down at the worn carpet floor for only a moment before I lifted my chin again, willing myself not to cry as I met the judge’s gaze.
“I was scared of what would happen to me if I told anyone. I was afraid of not being believed. I was afraid of being punished even worse for attempting to show my abuse. And most of all, I was terrified of losing my son, my life.”
I swallowed.
“There are some things you truly cannot understand until you are experiencing them, storms that you’ll never fully feel until you are being wind-whipped and pelted with rain and holding onto whatever grounding force you can find with dear life. There were times I thought about speaking up, but every time that thought passed, my ex-husband would remind me in the very convincing way he always did that I would be fighting an uphill battle, that no one would believe that a kind, caring veterinarian would ever do such a thing.
“And it may seem silly to someone like you, Your Honor, who has likely never doubted himself a day in his life. Who has had faith in his strength and standing and position for many decades. But for a single mother without a steady job, reputable education, or anyone other than her own parents to back her — let me tell you, the story my ex-husband painted was a very believable one. And it was one I couldn’t risk.”
I heard my mom sniffle from the bench behind me, but I kept my gaze focused, the words coming easier now.
“For many years, I felt that I could handle this. I truly felt I was strong enough to deal with the hits, the bruises, the abuse.”
“This is bullshit!”
Every head snapped to Marshall, to where his attorney was whisper-shouting for him to be quiet and sit down.
“Mr. Hearst, I will have order in this courtroom,” Judge Hall said sternly. “This will be your only warning.”
He let that sink in for a long moment before he nodded for me to continue.
I cleared my throat. “I felt this way because, as I’m sure you can imagine, I will do anything for my son. He loves his father. And I believed that, though I suffered at Marshall’s hands, Sebastian never would.” I paused. “Until recently.”
I heard scuffling from my left, no doubt Marshall trying to stand and argue his case again before I finished speaking. I assumed his lawyers settled him, though. The judge arched a brow in that direction before slowly dragging his gaze back to me.
“Your Honor, my son has become more and more reluctant to visit his father in the last several months. As he grows older, he can sense things he couldn’t as a young child. He has seen the marks left on me. He notices the way I stiffen when I have to meet with his father.”
“It’s because this bitch brainwashes him!” Marshall cried out, much to the dismay of his legal team. “And you act so innocent. I only put you in your place when you need it.”
“Mr. Hearst, that is enough,” Judge Hall said, glaring down at my ex-husband. “If I hear one more peep from you, I’ll have you thrown out of my courtroom.”
I didn’t know how Kyle was still sitting after that remark. Again, I wondered if my mom was using all her strength to keep him and my father seated.
Judge Hall turned his attention back to me. “Please continue, Miss Hearst.”
Hearst.
I hated that I was still tied to him.
But that would change soon.
With a steady breath, I started again. “My son can feel it, Your Honor — all of it. And the truth is, the older he gets, the bigger he gets, and the more he starts to think for himself — the less confidence I have that it will only be me who has to handle his father’s rage. And I will tell you, in all honesty, that I will not stand for that man putting a single finger on our son. The moment it happens, the first time I hear that he hurt Sebastian? Well, it would be the last. And I would be appearing here in a very different kind of trial.”
The judge’s eyebrows raised in warning over his glasses, and he jotted something down on his notebook in front of him. I assumed he was recording that should I ever be back here on trial for murder, which I accepted — though I was fairly certain our lawyer was likely pinching the bridge of her brow and cursing me for that little slip.