There was a trial for the girl, and House sat on the witness stand.
Court was a very dangerous place for the pill-popping doctor, but being on the witness stand was even more dangerous for the defense attorney. With his credibility, there was no way the jury wouldn't convict Mr. Folley.
Mr. Folley's attorney, whose name House hadn't cared to memorize- she had a large rack, and that's all that really mattered- watched him carefully. In his expert opinion, she was a horrible lawyer. She didn't ask the right questions, and she wore a shirt to hide good her body.
House undressed her with his eyes while keeping a straight face, something he had learned to do with Cameron.
"...Well?" the attorney asked.
House knew the question she had asked. He had the ability to pay no attention but hear words anyway. She had said Did you run tests on the girl?
"Of course I did; I'm her doctor," he answered, watching her chest and not her eyes.
"And, in these... tests... you could see that she was abused?"
"There were bruises."
"Little girls get bruises."
"Not hand print shaped bruises." His voice was very calm, as to not scare the jurors. He twisted his cane in one hand and the other rested on his lap.
"I slap? She's a child. Sometimes you need to discipline your childr-"
"Not with violence," House interrupted. "You don't hit your child. Especially when she's having panic attacks and seizures."
"She could have been hit somewhere else. By a friend, maybe."
"No eleven year old girl has friends with hands that big."
"Damn it!" Mr. Folley stood up, knocking his chair backwards. He stared at his lawyer and screamed, "whose side are you on?"
The judge banged the gavel. "That's enough, Mr. Folley," she yelled. "If that happens again, I'll have you taken out of here!"
Mr. Folley picked up his chair and sat down. He muttered a little, but kept quiet for the most part.
The attorney looked back at me. "Did Francine say she was being abused?"
House sighed. "Not in so many words."
"Oh, so you're just making the assumption?"
"No, I-"
"You just said she never admitted to it, so you're obviously going on some whim, aren't you? How many Vicodin have you taken today?"
"Objection!" Francine's lawyer yelled. "Relevance?"
Francine's attorney's name was Linda. She had a small chest.
"I'll allow it," the judge answered.
"I had as many as I had to to stop the pain in my leg. But that has nothing to do with the little girl!" Making her sound as innocent as possible is what would win the case, House knew. 'Little girl' was just the thing to say to woo the jury. "And I wasn't done with my last statement. She admits that she's being hurt. How far do you want a kid to go? She can't even see her father without having an attack!"
House stood and walked off the witness stand.
"You're not done here!" the judge called angrily.
House looked back at her. "Yes, I am."
--
"They need you to appear tomorrow," House told Francine. "I'll come, if you want me to."
She was still in the hospital because her father still had rights to see her, and so she was still having attacks.
"Okay," she answered in a weak voice.
House nodded and left the room.
--
In the same court as last week, House sat in the back rows of the seats. He looked at it for the first time. I was large and ornate, and there were brown marble angel statues in all four corners.
Mr. Folley, for obvious reasons, was not in court.
Francine walked feebly up to the witness stand and sat down. The few steps made her exhausted and she nearly fainted onto the chair.
The judge whispered something to her, and she nodded in reply.
The questioning began, and she answered them all surely.
The large chested lawyer held up a picture.
House narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the back of it using the bright lights of the courtroom.
"Do you know this man?" the lawyer asked.
Francine nodded slowly.
"Who is it?"
"My father."
The lawyer showed the picture to the jury, and they all nodded.
"What-"
Before she could even start her question, Francine fell to the floor with a seizure.
House stood and ran as though he didn't have a limp to the girl, using his cane as a leg in place of the injured one.
"Call an ambulance!" he shouted.
The world seemed to be in slow motion as the court worked itself into a frenzy. The only thing House could see clearly was the terrified look on Mrs. Folley's face.
--
When Francine was safely in the ambulance and it drove out of sight, House turned to the cause of the panic.
The whole courtroom stood in the parking lot, deaf to the orders and complaints of the judge.
The large-chested attorney was staring absentmindedly in the direction of the EMT.
"I hope you're happy," he said lowly. He walked to his car, leaving the lawyer to stand alone.
"I'm quitting," she yelled to him.
House turned. "What?"
"I can't do this to a little girl. I'm quitting this case." She walked away, her heels clicking on the cement. She got into her shiny BMW and drove away as House stood at the door of his car.
He felt a little empty inside.
She was really hot.