I hope your New Years was fun and safe.
I've been struggling a lot mentally...like...ideations struggling. Hopefully this chap flows okay. Courtroom scenes were never my forte. It is fiction, after all.
Straight and silvery rain came down like a punishment of steel rods, clattering onto unvaulted roof of the Romanesque structure towering three stories high. Large pillars supported the front wall, "truth, justice, and liberty" etched in stone. Green lines neat and tidy in their trim covered the courtyard where the country's proud flag of red, white, and blue flew high on a pole, soaring above the white stone building conquered with growing ivy on one side.
Seated in the lobby walled and floored in Carrara white marble, a cleanshaven man occupied the dark wooden bench with his two nieces. Red hair combed to the shoulders of his rented navy blazer with a white-collared shirt and black slacks. His pink eyes scowled, doing his best to conceal the brewing resentment towards the man he once called his little brother.
His little brother stood alongside his raven-haired wife, being verbally prepped for the upcoming trial by their defense attorney. Silver hair slicked to one side with a little scuff in his beard, Mr. Carlos Alazraqui was dressed in his best tailored blazer and pants combo stitched in light-grey wool, sporting a black tie secured neatly beneath his drycleaned white button-up. His clients, Jim and Nicky Byrne, wore their Sunday best in coordinating white dress shirts and either navy pants or a navy skirt reaching below the knees with Nicky wearing white earrings and a white pearl necklace.
Wearing her black long-sleeve dress with a white doll collar, the nine-year-old sunk in her seat next to her sixteen-year-old sister's green cap-sleeve dress. Both wore black baby-dolls on their feet, legs stockinged with white satin. Tootie watched her parents speaking with their attorney, knotting dread in her stomach as she brushed her teal bracelet with fidgeting fingers. This is the first time that she's seen her parents since being disfellowshipped. Considering the circumstances, she had expected a twinge of unease.
Just looking at them made her want to crawl under a rock and stay there until this whole trial was over.
"Ignore them." she heard Vicky coach, looking to pink eyes as firm as her tone. "Just like they're ignoring us."
Tootie's shoulders hunched in feeble attempts to tear her eyes away from her tormented past not-so-distant.
A young brunette with long hair pulled into a neat bun approached, wedge-heels clinking with each self-assured step that echoed in the marble acoustics. Her black button blouse was worn beneath her dark-grey lapel blazer and tucked into her matching bodycon skirt that stopped just above her calves, Aerosoles almond toed in black leather.
The prosecution attorney, Ms. Daniella Monet, greeted her clients with the friendliest smile. "You all ready for today?"
"As ready as we'll ever be…" Vic muttered for all three of them, his shaved chin in his palm.
"Just remember, girls," Ms. Monet addressed the two young ladies specifically since their testimonies would likely be first. "no matter what, speak your truth."
"I intend to." Vicky sounded assured. Tootie felt her voice lodge in her throat.
"You remember everything we've talked about, right?" Ms. Monet remained polite, sensing Tootie's heightened nerves as she leaned towards Tootie who assented timidly.
"Hope we get some justice today…" Vic heavily exhaled in his comment.
"Agreed." Ms. Monet grinned to Vic. "Speaking of," she held her briefcase with both hands instead of just one "have you had a chance to talk with the girls about what else might happen today?"
Vic stalled, pink eyes widened "…that's gon' happen today?!"
"Potentially." Ms. Monet advised. "If the case sways in our favor, then the Byrne's suspension of parental rights would become permanent termination of their rights for both the girls effective immediately. And, as their legal guardian and next of kin, you would automatically inherit those rights."
"Wait…" Vicky tried to follow the legal jargon just to fail miserably "…what're you talking about?"
"Basically," Vic turned to his nieces, explaining in his own words what he was able to gather "if we win this case…you wouldn't have ta call me 'Uncle' anymore."
Vicky shared a glance with her sister before turning back to her uncle "…so you'd be like…our dad?"
Vic gave a small smile. "Legally speakin'."
Taking in this news, Vicky looked back to the little girl fidgeting with her fingers. Not too far off from eighteen, she felt that this news seemed more beneficial for Tootie than it did for her "…would you like that?"
Tootie found herself staring back at her biological father, the man who still made no eye contact. Turquoise eyes calm and collected…cold. They were cold, yet vivid memories flashed turquoise eyes hot with rage.
An icy shudder shot through her spine. She knew this day would come, but now that it was here…was she ready for this?
"Ms. Victoria," Mr. Alazraqui continued his cross-examination of the redhaired teen seated behind the witness stand. "what made you leave the Jehovah's Witness religion?"
"It's full of baloney." Vicky slit her brow, arms crossed over her chest. "Plus, I was tired of getting beat just for being a kid."
Mr. Alazraqui smirked to her teenage angst, chin held high in his poised demeanor. "Clarify what you mean by 'getting beat.'"
"Sometimes, it was a switch that I'd have to pick from the backyard. Sometimes, it was the belt off his pants…" Vicky's glare followed the attorney's casual pace back and forth. "Sometimes, it was his own hand."
Jim and Nicky Byrne stared with apathetic eyes forward, refusing to go against their beliefs to acknowledge the apostate known once as their first born.
Hands behind his back, Mr. Alazraqui gestured to the raven-haired woman on the defendant's side. "Would your mother harm you in any way?"
"Not really." Vicky shot a glare towards her womb bearer. "She'd just let Jim do all the dirty work."
"What is 'dirty work?'"
Her glare shot back to the defense attorney, irritated by his stupid smug grin. "Him beating me until he got tired or until I couldn't take it anymore."
Sitting between her uncle and the prosecution attorney, Tootie's nerves bit down on short nails. Vicky was getting agitated, and Mr. Alazraqui reveled in it.
"When your father would beat you, how would you respond?"
Vicky snarled. Alazraqui already knew what her answer would be; it was documented as admissible evidence in her interview with the police. Hence why he even asked the question, because unlike her sister, Vicky did not have much backdown to her "…eventually, I fought back."
"So how were you abused if you retaliated?"
"Objection for Unfair Prejudice." Ms. Monet spoke up, privy to Alazraqui's ploy of using Vicky's means of self-defense to paint a bad picture of her to the judge and the jury.
"Sustained." The elderly woman cloaked in black allowed the objection, her silver curls reaching just above her broad shoulders.
"Ms. Victoria, was fighting back the only solution?" Mr. Alazraqui rephrased his question, keeping his cool behind an arrogant grin. How can you claim to be abused if you're also committing assault?
"Of course, it was! I'd get beat for anything and everything!" Vicky defended her actions. When she was around twelve, she'd finally found the strength to strike back. Jim would still overtake her, but she wasn't gonna keep taking a beating without a fight for her dignity. A fight for her life.
"How often would you get beaten?"
"Every day! Even over small stuff like forgetting to say my prayers or falling asleep during those boring meetings!"
"And your resolve was to retaliate against punishment for your wrongdoings?"
"Objection!" Ms. Monet spoke out again against Alazraqui's victim blaming. "Argumentative and Leading."
"Sustained." The judge allowed, and Mr. Alazraqui retained his composure. Looks like he was getting under some skin. Too bad he was just scratching the surface.
"…Victoria," Mr. Alazraqui stepped forward towards the witness stand, meeting Vicky's glaring eye contact with a leveled brow "where was your sister when you left the religion?"
Vicky's glare softened subtly when she snuck a glance towards Tootie's expression riddled with worry. Again, details of being disfellowshipped was documented in her interview. She knew the defense would use 'anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law' to their advantage. Dirty bastard.
Sitting up in her seat, Vicky returned her gaze to the defense attorney, wrinkling her glowering brow "…she stayed with my parents."
Mr. Alazraqui brushed his short beard with two fingers, faintly cocking his head. "And why did you not take your sister with you?"
"Because…" Vicky gritted her fists, flaring her nostrils as regret boiled through her veins "…because I couldn't."
"Why is that?"
"Tootie wasn't gonna go willingly…cuz at the time…" her lips folded, looking away "…she was afraid."
"What did Dorothy have to be afraid of?"
Vicky returned her glare towards him "…she was scared of disobeying our parents…because that meant disobeying Jehovah."
Tootie flinched in her chair.
"She wasn't disfellowshipped yet like I was…she was still a witness and…I didn't want to risk anything worse happening to her."
Curious of this wording, Mr. Alazraqui then probed "What would have happened to her?"
A flash of furious fists striking her tightened Vicky's jaw.
"…he'd purposefully beat me in front of Tootie…to 'teach her a lesson' on what happens when you disobey your parents and…when you disobey Jehovah. I didn't want them to teach Tootie that same lesson…" her nose crinkled ruefully "…turns out they did anyway after I left…"
Vic wadded his hands beneath the table. He could remember that fateful night and the state his brother had left young Tootie in. The swollen lip, the bruised nose. Her white shirt stained with her own blood…
"Victoria, you had mentioned earlier that you would receive punishment whenever you would disobey your parents every day." Mr. Alazraqui resorted back to the point made previously, prepping for another blow. "Is that correct?"
"…yes." Vicky muttered darkly before Mr. Alazraqui inched towards her. Leaning closer, brown eyes smug with a cocky grin.
"Why not try being less rebellious and more obedient?"
Pink eyes snapped wide as the corners of her mouth clenched from the sweltering scorch of contempt.
Honestly annoyed with the patronizing, Ms. Monet stood once more. "Objection, your honor-"
"No!" Vicky stopped the objection, tension flattening her hands on either side of the microphone. Determined in her scornful scowl towards Alazraqui's smirk "…I wanna answer that."
Seeing Vicky's resolve clear in her face, the judge decided to permit the witnesses' response "…alright then. Go on, Victoria."
Vicky sat back in her chair, raising her shoulders as she inhaled a tense breath before it was gruffly released. Carlos Alazraqui was not the first to condemn her attitude and smart mouth as disrespectfully insolent. She'd been deemed a menacing rebel. Defiant, nothing but trouble. Troublemakers deserve punishment. Nevertheless, Vicky was not always destined for causing trouble…
And like Ms. Monet said, she needed to speak her truth.
"…I'm not perfect." she began, speaking through stern lips "…my grades aren't that great, and I don't always like authority…" her own scorn stalled her "…but when you get beaten every day…you start to think..." resentment slit in her grimace "…that you don't deserve love, and never will…"
When Tootie could see gloss in her sister's eyes, a sympathetic pang tug at her heart. Vicky hardly cried. Not in public, anyway.
"I did try to follow the rules…I did try to say my prayers…" she did her best to mask the tremor in her throat that shook her voice "…I did knock on random people's doors, preaching about words I couldn't believe in to who did nothing but slam a door in my face…"
Ms. Monet looked over at Vic, exchanging somber glances.
"…but eventually…I stopped trying…" "…cuz no matter what I did…I still got hit. I still got spanked. I still got smacked with a stick until my skin broke…" Vicky blinked away the watery blur, brushing a feathered fingers along faded scars. Scars carved along the warm-ivory skin of her arms, barely visible to the naked eye "…cuz to them…I was just evil…"
Tootie hung her head, hearing their parents' voices chastising Vicky for her sins. Rebuking 'Satan' in the name of Jehovah…
"…I was evil for watching Twinklebell cartoons…I was evil for not shoving a Watchtower magazine in some kids face…" pink eyes swelled with more tears "…I was evil for 'caving into sin' when I ate a stupid cupcake at school…because I was tired of being an outcast and wanted to feel normal again…even for a second…"
Resentment swiped her tears before they had a chance to fall, fueling her wounded glare. Glaring at the two people who sat silently in their seats, still refusing to acknowledge her. Refusing to acknowledge her pain, acknowledge her as a person. As their freaking daughter.
"…you ruined me…" her limbs faintly trembled, brimming more gloss into her glare. Speaking straight to the direct cause of her life-long strife "…you snapped my soul in half…and you have the nerve to sit on your high horse and claim to punish your kids because it's spart of God's love!"
Jim stared like hard stone as Vicky's battered heart roiled with rage.
"…why would God allow you to beat the kids you love!? And how can you love your kids by doing nothing to stop it!?"
Out of the pair, Nicky's stoic expression cracked, but only slightly. Her eyes didn't dare look in Vicky's direction. Oblivious to hot tears escaping their cage.
"I don't know what love is supposed to feel like! I don't know how to love because of how much I hate you!" tremors became shivers as Vicky's cheeks dampened, gritting her teeth to keep from screaming at the top of her lungs. "I hate you! I fucking hate you!" her eyes shut when flowing tears began to burn them. "You're the real evil ones!" quivering fingers scratched at the wood of the witness stand "Not me!"
Yep, this was a good place to call it. "…no further questions, your honor." Mr. Alazraqui formally addressed the judge before he left to return to his seat on the defendant's side, confident in his work.
Tootie felt her lower lip tremble as Vicky fell back in the chair, sobbing woeful wails into palms that tried to shield her tears from onlookers. Jim and Nicky Byrne said not a word nor apology as the judge called for a short recess with a bang of her gavel.
Ms. Monet stood near the Byrne family in the courthouse lobby, standing near Vic who kept a consoling hand to his older niece's knee. Vicky sniffed, silent tears trailing off her trembling chin. Her little sister watched with somber eyes, sitting beside her on the bench.
"I am so, so proud of you, Vicky…" Vic's earnest spoke softly. "…I'm proud that you got that off your chest…and it don't matter if they don't wanna hear it…"
Vicky's forearm rubbed restlessly at her eyes, wishing she could turn the faucet in them. She was so fucking weak to let those bastards stoop her to this level. They literally sat there and did nothing, and here she was, bawling her fucking eyes out…how pathetic.
"Your testimony and allowing yourself to feel those emotions will really help this case, Vicky…" Ms. Monet offered her own words of encouragement as Vicky continued to hiccup sobs. "Don't think for a second that it was all in vain…"
Wanting to help somehow, Tootie scooted closer to her older sister. Waiting for Vicky to tilt her chin towards her before Tootie reached with loving arms, enclosing them around Vicky's waist as she nestled her cheek to Vicky's chest. Realizing how much her inner suffering needed the caring gesture, Vicky didn't dare push her away. Holding her little sister close with one arm while the other continued to rub away those pesky tears.
"Now I'm worried about Tootie's cross-examination…" Vic sighed, thinking out loud. Causing Tootie to shudder against Vicky's chest.
"Alazraqui can be calculating, but I doubt he'd purposefully make a little girl cry." Ms. Monet opinioned. Even defense attorneys have morals to an extent.
"You saw 'em! He was ruthless!" Vic expressed his true opinion. "I mean, yeah, Vicky's older but…look what he's done!"
"If Alazraqui tries anything, I'll object. Just like with Vicky."
"That don't mean Tootie ain't safe from his games."
Both Tootie and Vicky looked to their uncle, seeing his shoulders fall in defeat.
"…maybe Tootie shouldn't testify…"
"Does she even have a choice at this point?" Vicky sniffed. She wanted to protect her sister from what she had to go through, but she worried it was too late. Stripping Tootie from the stand could weaken their argument, could give the defense the upper hand.
"Tootie?" Ms. Monet walked over to kneel down before the youngest witness, careful to keep her skirt modest. "Do you still feel that you can testify?"
Briefly, Tootie's eyes wandered to the redhaired man and his raven wife, letting out a small gasp as turquoise eyes happened to look in her direction. Their eyes met, just for a second. Then, stern eyes looked back to Mr. Alazraqui.
Fear crawled under her skin, biting down on her lower lip. There's no way she can do this…until purple eyes looked up at the tears that still shed, watching Vicky's palm rub her nose after another crestfallen snivel. No…she can't let her sister down.
Turning to their prosecution attorney's expectant gaze, Tootie swallowed what she could of her nerves "…I-I at least have to try…"
Despite Tootie's attempt at a brave front, Vicky could see the quiver in her sister's legs and hear dread in her sister's squeak.
"Remember, I'll directly examine you first." Ms. Monet gave a friendly reminder. "So you'll just answer the questions just like how we prepped."
Tootie acknowledged this with a weak nod, resulting in a smile from her uncle.
"I'm proud of you too, Tootie." Vic praised her. "For bein' so brave in all this."
Tootie felt far from brave on the inside…
Standing down from her bench, the judge waited for Tootie to travel the short steps into the witness stand. A bible rested in her hand, instructing Tootie to place her left hand on its cover. Tootie willed her shaking fingers to raise, setting it on top of the bible. Sensing the child's nerves, the judge curved her corners in a friendly smile. Hoping to ease the tension as she began to swear Tootie in as a witness.
"Do you, Dorothy Byrne, swear that the evidence that you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? So help you God?"
Blinking water from her eyes, Tootie gulped before she squeaked "…y-yes, I do."
"Thank you." The judge assented, light in her tone as she took the bible to be put away. "Please be seated."
As the rest of the court took their seats, Tootie stepped down to the single chair behind the thin microphone, looking out into the audience to the encouraging grin of her uncle Vic and the subtle frown of her sister who couldn't find the heart to smile. Her peripheral caught glimpses of Jim and Nicky Byrne, stoic in their stairs straight ahead.
"Remember what Ms. Monet told you." she heard her fairy godmother's tender voice remind, glancing to the teal beads cuffed around her right wrist. "Speak your truth."
Easier said than done…
When her bottom met the cold surface of the wooden chair, Tootie scooted closer to the mic. Heart pounding against her ribs, she watched as Daniella Monet approached with calm shoulders and equanimity in her tone.
"Will you please state your full name for the court?" Ms. Monet began with basic protocol, hoping it would also help Tootie feel more comfortable speaking.
"…Dorothy Elizabeth Byrne…" Tootie peeped, rubbing sweaty palms.
"Do you have a nickname?"
"…yes…"
"What is that nickname?"
"…Tootie…"
"And how old are you, Tootie?"
Brushing the beads of her teal bracelet, Tootie murmured "…nine…"
"Dorothy?" the judge leaned towards the little girl whose purple eyes peered nervously. "Just remember to speak up in the mic, okay? So the jury can hear you."
Her throat gulped another lump, nodding in acknowledgement. Sheesh, this was harder than she thought…
"Tootie, what school do you go to?" Ms. Monet continued with basic questioning, still trying to ease Tootie into being on the stand.
"…Dimmsdale Elementary…" Tootie squeaked into the mic.
"And what grade are you in?"
"…fourth grade…"
"Do you like fourth grade?"
"…yes."
"What's your favorite subject?"
"Um…" Tootie licked her lips. She could feel steam beneath her doll collar, sweat coating her palms "…I-I like Art."
"Art is your favorite subject?" Ms. Monet repeated for Tootie to confirm with a shy nod. "Wow, that's wonderful!"
Vicky caught a glance of Mr. Alazraqui whispering something into Jim's ear, furrowing her brow when she then saw him chuckle cockily to himself.
"Tootie, all of those answers were the truth, is that right?"
"…yes."
"Can you tell me what it means to tell the truth?"
Tapping fidgeting fingers on the stand's surface, Tootie blinked the blur from her vision, fighting back anxious tears "…t-to say what really happened or…what can be proven true."
"Very good." Believing they were ready to begin with the true examination, Ms. Monet slowly approached the stand, her tone remaining calm. "So, in your own words, what was it like when you lived with your parents?"
Seeing moving lips out of her peripheral, Tootie watched as Mr. Alazraqui whispered something else to his clients. Jim's stern stare continued to be willfully blind to her presence, while Nicky held her gaze to the floor.
"…i-it was…" Tootie tore her eyes away, forcing herself to focus on her attorney "…it was bad."
"How was it bad?"
Tootie swallowed once more before her soft utter "…I-I didn't feel safe…"
"And why didn't you feel safe?"
Her fingers grew more restless, glancing cold eyes staring through her like glass. Her voice lodged itself into her throat, causing her fingers to claw at her neck.
"Objection!" Mr. Alazraqui was quick to give his first objection. "Non-responsive answer!"
Already irritated, Ms. Monet spun around to her opponent. "My witness was just given the question!"
"Overruled." The judge rejected the superfluous objection, turning to Tootie with hazel eyes civil. "Dorothy, please give a response to the question."
Vic's brow squinted, gritting his teeth towards that snake of an attorney. This guy was definitely imploring shady tactics, even on a little girl.
"Why did you not feel safe living with your parents, Tootie?" Ms. Monet chose to repeat the question.
"…i-it wasn't safe because…" Tootie's breathes grew shallow, struggling to breathe. Her eyes shut temporarily in attempts to mentally calm herself down "…b-because I was scared of getting in trouble…"
Seeing Tootie's chest intake fast breaths, Ms. Monet started to lose confidence that they would get through this examination smoothly. "Tootie, what was often the result of doing something that your parents disapproved of?"
Shallow breaths continued to wreck her shoulders as Tootie darted eyes over at the man who would not meet her gaze. His striking fist and angered glare flashed across her eyes, causing her to shudder. Her skin pinched in phantom punches, feeling his fury with each pounding strike. She had to force out her tiny whimper "…h-he'd hit me…"
"Remember to speak up in the mic, please." The judge asked respectfully, making Tootie claw at her fingers.
"Who would hit you, Tootie?"
She swallowed "…m-my father…"
Ms. Monet questioned further. "And what would he hit you with?"
Another flash of Jim's fists shivered in her spine, failing to keep her eyes open in tremoring whimpers. Failing to remain in the present.
"Jehovah is not pleased!" he shouted over her screeching cries, reaching for his pants. Loosening the buckle holding them up before he ripped it from their loops. "That cannot go unpunished!"
"Tootie?" Ms. Monet inched forward, brow furrowed with worry. "What would your father hit you with?"
The leather belt struck down, slashing behind her thighs. Burning her skin red as piercing cries echoed. Leather whipped down again and again, each strike resonating in a biting slap. She writhed and wiggled with each strike, shrieks scratching in her throat. Insufferable pain drowned her mind. Jim was merciless, for Jehovah disciplines the ones He loves…
Ms. Monet observed Tootie's shuddering shoulders, seeing her eyes clamped shut as torturous memories pursed tiny whimpers through her tight lips. Crap…she feared this would happen. Left with very little options, Ms. Monet took a deep breath and addressed the judge.
"…your honor, I'd like to use Dorothy Byrne's pre-recorded statement that was recorded via camcorder."
The judge rubbed her chin in consideration. "Is the interviewer of this pre-recorded statement present in court?"
"Yes, your honor." Ms. Monet verified. "I've confirmed that Detective Tom Arnold is present and is competent to stand trial."
"Objection, your honor!" Aggravation stood Mr. Alazraqui from his chair. Taking all the will power in the world for Ms. Monet to maintain professionalism by not visibly rolling her eyes. "Would that not be hearsay?!"
"Children under the age of twelve are protected under the Child Hearsay Exception." Ms. Monet argued civically, facing the judge. "At the time of recording, Tootie was able to properly communicate her personal knowledge of the topic and give clear answers of the questions asked."
Scrunching at her raven ponytails, Tootie's shallow breaths continued, eyes wide shut.
Ms. Monet gestured to Tootie withdrawing into herself on the stand. "Being in the same room as her alleged abusers is clearly causing some distress and lack of ability to respond."
"If that's the case, then why was she sworn in under oath to testify?" Mr. Alazraqui's argument led Ms. Monet to directly address him.
"Will all due respect, Mr. Alazraqui, you don't truly know how you'll react in the moment until you're actually in the moment." Ms. Monet countered. "And considering that Dorothy is just nine-years-old speaking about such a traumatic experience, I would ask that you show some grace."
'Grace' was nowhere in Mr. Alazraqui's vocabulary. "You want me to show grace to a kid who can't take a spanking?!"
Vicky subtly jumped as Vic shot from his chair, forgetting that he was in a courtroom. "Now you wait a goddamn minute-"
"Order in the court!"
Pounding bangs of the gavel swiftly ceased all quarrels. The atmosphere thickened in a tense silence, causing glossy purple eyes to shoot up towards the judge.
"Based on the witnesses' clear emotional distress, I approve the pre-recorded statement." The judge announced. "And I call a small intermission to set up the equipment to be played for the court."
Another bang of the gavel initiated intermission. Chest straining for air, Tootie shot a final glance at Mr. Alazraqui whispering into Jim's ear. Stoic eyes did not waver. Mr. Alazraqui then turned to her direction. Curling his lips in arrogance, swelling tears in her grimace...
Overwhelmed with defeat, Tootie dashed from the stand. Running down the single aisle between the benches seating the public audience. Vicky and Vic raced after her, making it as far as the lobby before Vicky managed to catch up to Tootie's fast pace.
Wrecking sobs shook Tootie's shoulders, gasping cries already out of breath from running. Vicky grabbed Tootie's arm before she could run further, bringing her to restrain her wailing arms as Vicky peered into Tootie's eyes clamped shut with gushing tears.
"Tootie, it's okay!" Vicky attempted to talk her sister down. "Hey! Look at me!"
Hitched sobs that escalated into hyperventilative pants as Ms. Monet's heels clinked through the lobby, catching up to the trio. Vicky tried to pull Tootie into a comforting hug, yet Tootie shoved herself away. Why was Vicky coddling her when she had one job! She had one job, to tell the truth! And she failed!
Tearing herself away, Tootie ran off down the hall. Deaf to her sister's call for her to come back.
"It's alright." Vic palmed Vicky's shoulder, watching Tootie disappear into the first bathroom she could see through heart-wrenching cries "…let her go."
"I deeply apologize." Ms. Monet blamed herself, facing Vic and Vicky with a palm over her chest. "I knew in my gut that we should have just opted to use the pre-recorded statement from the beginning. Tootie shouldn't have gone through this…"
"It's okay…" Vic sadly muttered, taking more of the blame. He too could have made that call at any point...
Bursting into the bathroom, Tootie staggered into the nearest empty stall. She fell to the ground, palms muffling wailing sobs over her face. Poofing out of her disguise, Rose magically locked the stall, just to ensure that Tootie wouldn't try to run away from her.
"Tootie, it's okay…" she coaxed, reaching out towards her sobbing godchild. "It's gonna be okay-"
"NO!" Tootie swatted Rose's hand away, fresh tears flashed in her glare.
"Tootie, don't…"
"NOOOOO!"
Rose again reached for the child in distress, only for Tootie to swing madly at her. Weeping grunts followed each swing, defended either by Rose's arms or her wand. "…Tootie, stop-"
"I'm USELESS!" her pained cry rang out, shame slowing her swings. "I FAILED!"
"Tootie…"
Tootie sobbed, growing red in the face. Blubbering that she was useless, that she'd failed. Fighting Tootie's resistance, Rose eventually managed to draw Tootie in. Cradling her close as motherly arms wrapped around shaking shoulders. She began to lightly rock her like a baby, these light rocks taking quite a while to soften howling cries into quiet sobs. Tootie clung to her, burying her tears into Rose's chest. Rose continued to rock her, repeating in an oh so gentle voice "…it's gonna be okay…"
It was the only thing Rose could be certain of…