"All rise"
The bailiff bellowed customarily and everyone in the courtroom obediently stood as the Judge entered from behind the bench. "The honorable judge Larson presiding. Take your seats and come to order." Gillian breathed out slowly as the jury filed in and the trial began.
Alexander Martinez had charges of drug manufacturing and cultivation, drug trafficking, extortion, and racketeering pending in a separate court case, but as per Judge Larson's ruling at a preliminary hearing, a separate trial was being held to try Alexander Martinez and his wife Maria Martinez for several counts of child abuse including child endangerment and sexual abuse of a minor. The latter was the trial that Gillian was observing patiently as the prosecution and defense laid out their arguments.
Alexander and Maria Martinez had decided to form a united front, and the defense argued that parents have a right to discipline their children, that surely this set of devoted parents couldn't be capable of committing the acts they were accused of, and that these charges must be the result of a false accusation by their poor daughter who must have been coerced into lying.
The prosecution presented Katelyn's medical history and testimony from concerned teachers and neighbors and the lead investigator of the case to argue that the Martinez's had strayed far from the acceptable boundaries of discipline. Character witnesses were brought forth to discuss Alexander's volatile nature.
Cal, Gillian, and Ria watched the trial struggling to restrain themselves from standing up and pointing out lies as they saw them. Cal's knuckles had turned white as his hands griped the bench they were sitting on with increasing strength and Ria was muttering something about a broken system under her breath that Gillian couldn't quite catch. She, herself, anxiously kept running her hands over her thighs smoothing out her skirt compulsively as she waited for her turn to be called as a witness.
The trial seemed to painfully push forward and Gillian was finding herself increasingly entrenched within the confines of her mind. She was so intent on mentally rehearsing her testimony and reminding herself that this case wasn't especially personal (because every case involving a child was personal) to her (that she had put her own demons to rest) that she jumped slightly as Cal gripped her hand and squeezed comfortingly whispering "Good luck, luv".
Gillian took in a deep breath, stood up and straightened her skirt once more. "Don't need it," she replied just as quietly to Cal putting up her chin in familiar defiance.
Cal had his worries, but chose to let it slide and smiled faintly, "Of course not".
X
"Dr. Foster, so it is your testimony that Katelyn Ramirez was abused by her father?"
"Yes, I believe Katelyn has been abused for a prolonged period of time, the abuse only increased in magnitude after her father's illegal business ventures took off"
"Dr. Foster have you ever been abused?" Gillian recoiled slightly into her seat in surprise. Cal sat up in his seat, concerned with the flash of fear that had followed the question and the tension suddenly visible in her defensive posture. Cal wondered at the sudden change in the defense's tactics. The prosecution had already put Katelyn's taped interview into evidence and the questions up to this point had been strictly standard with the defense attorney trying to build up doubt by exaggerating technicalities and pointing out possibilities of misinterpretation.
"Objection! Relevance?" The prosecutor bolted out of his chair.
"Goes to the credibility of the witness, your Honor"
"Overruled," at the look of the prosecutor the judge continued, "but get to the point counselor. I don't want this to be an opportunity for you to dig; you had your chance at discovery at the probable cause hearing".
Defense Attorney Samantha Walsh turned back towards the witness chair.
"We're you ever abused by your father, Dr. Foster" Gillian looked helplessly at the district attorney, but he only nodded his head in the negative; Gillian was out on her own. Gillian crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to dispel her vulnerability.
"Dr. Foster, answer the question. Were you ever abused by your father? Yes or No?" Walsh demanded.
"Yes" Gillian answered with as much courage she could muster and was pleased when her voice came out steady and strong.
Faintly, Gillian noticed both Cal and Ria lean forward in their seats. Great this is exactly how I wanted to tell people of my past: mandated by a judge and in open court no less.
For a split second, Gillian was offered the comfort of clutching the necklace encircling her neck. Her brother had given it to her when she had received her certification in psychology. The memory was vivid. Robbie had handed her a jewelry box, which she had hesitantly opened after deciding that he indeed should have. She had gasped when her eyes had captured the shimmer of light blue-green teardrop sapphire crystal connected to three silver chain elements that linked it to delicate silver chain necklace. She had looked up, her eyes shining in wonder and exposing the innocence that she had somehow maintained despite her childhood. "What-" she had uttered in her surprise. He had answered with a "We're free Gillian, we've broken the chain" spoken with pride. She had looked back down at the necklace, gently running her fingers over the chain elements, sighing with the thought that it was symbolic. They had broken the chain of abuse. At the time they both had finished college and had started on successful career paths that aimed to help people. She was a psychologist, he a firefighter. They were both dating, planning on getting married, starting families of their own.
They hadn't succumbed to their past, but then again, Gillian thought, they hadn't confronted it either. Guess that moment had come now, Gillian thought bitterly. Nevertheless, she had accepted the gift, and now the crystal now felt cool laying on her chest and offered no protection.
"Did your father ever sexually abuse you Dr. Foster?" Gillian was roughly torn from her maudlin thoughts.
More memories assaulted her mind, leaving her breathing heavily. Her mind shot to one night in high school when her sense of safety had been thoroughly shattered.
She had been tossing and turning all night, frustrated as she had changed positions with no relief. Sleep had eluded her-just an inch out of her fingers grasp. It had been the night before her first day of high school, a new opening for anonymity in her mind. The high school catered to a much larger district-all her classmates wouldn't also be neighbors. Sympathetic looks and invasive questions would no longer have followed her movements; she would've been just another freshman with eyes set on freedom. She had turned once more, beating her pillow into submission, and just as her vision had started to fade into black surrender, she had been immediately brought to full awareness at the slamming of the front door.
Gone had been the desire for a comfortable position and she had silently willed herself to be still and had attempted to regulate her breathing into an even tempo.
It had taken her everything she had to not have lost her composure when the click of her bedroom door had registered in her mind. Heavy, uneven footsteps had approached her, and the bed had dipped under His weight. He had silently run a hand over her face; she had no doubt that he had felt the trembling of her muscles. He had called her his "little angel" which transitioned into "M-my good little guurl" when his touch got harder. She had only swallowed then as his hands drifted lower across her body in a clumsy line. By the time she was "daddy's little girl", she had unfortunately heard the recognizable depression in vocal tone and detected the liquor. Her eyes had squeezed shut, and hot, soundless tears had managed to escape from behind her fortress. Things hadn't gone past the clumsy touches, but she had decided that night that she would never reconcile with her father.
"Did your father ever sexually abuse you, Dr. Foster?" Walsh repeated. Gillian took small comfort in seeing shame and disgust pass over the attorneys face at her own cross-examination.
"Define sexual abuse, counselor" Gillian couldn't help the contempt at Walsh's title. She was not going to let Walsh turn her into a porcelain doll, capable of shattering into a thousand pieces, with information that she wasn't even supposed to have.
"Did he rape you?"
"No" her tone was fierce, biting.
"But he did touch you?"
"Yes" Gillian answered coldly; shame evident in her features much to Cal's dismay. Ria looked shocked and confused, probably wondering how she missed it.
"So, it wouldn't be wrong to say that you see a part of yourself in Katelyn," Walsh construed.
Gillian swallowed before carefully answering, "It wouldn't be wrong to say that I can relate to Katelyn more strongly than some other psychologists but that doesn't-"
Walsh quickly interrupted, "So you agree that it is possible that you are projecting your own experiences onto Katelyn?"
TBC…
XXX
Thank you to all of the people that are still reading this story! I'm considering putting some flashbacks to Cal and Gillian's question and answer session in the next chapter but I'm not sure if I should since I kinda like the idea of everyone filling out the blanks how they want… so please let me know your opinion on that (review!) Hope you enjoyed the update and, again, please review! Thanks :D
