Page 106 of Retribution

Willow fidgets in her seat as she sits on top of her hands, swinging her legs. The judge enters the room next and we all stand, Indie leaning down to let Willow know she needs to stand.

“You can all be seated now,” the judge states, banging his gavel against the wooden platform.

The court begins with an opening statement from the Dawson’s attorney, and we have to sit and listen to their pathetic argument of why they want to uproot Willow’s life for their own gain. Or her ‘best interests’ as they put it.

Harrison begins his case strongly, defining the number of reasons why Willow belongs here, with us. He speaks fondly of Indie as a role model and the importance of ballet in her life, how supportive Indie has been during the loss of her mother.

Dawson states that they have a private school lined up with a ballet program, they have the money to support her through college, they have a close relationship with Willow and so on.

I find myself yawning at their excuses, offering what I could but it causes huge emotional distress on Willow in the process. Harrison bounces back once again, defending our honor and arguing how everything Willow needs is right here, with us.

This goes on for a few hours, Indie’s head is resting on my shoulder and Willow is lying across our laps, snoring away from when she grew bored two hours in.

Something about the situation were currently in feels ominous, but I can’t quite put a finger on it.

Everything is flowing well, everything is pointing in our direction, the victory is almost ours. But I can’t eradicate the gnawing feeling in my gut, that something is going to go wrong.

I listen intently, trying to pinpoint anything that could be suspicious or have a double meaning but nope, nothing. Trying to shake the feeling, I relax a little in my seat, grasping Indie’s hand in mine and holding Willow’s head tightly.

* * *

The case comes to a close and the judge defines the temporary custody order in our favor, meaning we have our victory, temporarily.

“Your honor, we have some new evidence that we would like to present to the court.” the Dawson’s attorney rises.

The judge slowly cranes his neck with his eyebrow furrowed. We all freeze in our seats, Willow stirring.

“I’m afraid I have concluded today’s case already, Mr. Parkinson,” he says, a sigh of relief erupting from us.

“Your honor, I’m afraid this can’t wait. It’s detrimental to the case” he persists, and Harrison looks back at me, confusion written across his face.

I glance from him to the attorney and back again. Indie sits up straight, her chest barely moving as we sit in anticipation.

“Well then, hand it over.” He offers out a hand and their attorney rushes forward, handing it to him.

Harrison is still staring at me and I stare back with anger. What the fuck have they discovered that we haven’t?

The judge puts on his glasses and begins to read over the sheet of paper. Time lies heavy as we wait for him to announce to the court whatever nonsense they’ve come up with. His eyebrows shoot to his hairline, and he looks from the paper to the Dawson’s attorney.

“Where did you get this?” He asks.

“We retrieved it from her medical file, your honor,” the attorney replies.

My heart sinks.

The judge turns on the projector and places the paper onto it, the screen slowly coming to light on the wall.

I recognize it almost immediately and I look down at the floor. The sounds drown out as I bury myself inside of my own head, not wanting to be here, not wanting to think, not wanting to breathe.

All of this is over.

The black hole has just exploded into my life, sucking everything out with it.

All of this was for nothing.

Every single nightmare that I’ve ever had has joined together and targeted me all at once, leaving nothing but the scattered remnants of my heart on the floor before me.

Glancing around, my head still submerged under water, everything is happening in slow motion. Harrison is stood up on his feet, fury evident across his face as he argues back and forth. Indie is standing as well, tears smeared across her face and her finger is pointed at the Dawson’s as she shouts something. Willow is slumped against me, her tiny hands hugging around my waist as she sobs.

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