Chapter 17 - Emily takes the stand
Emily wore a navy cardigan over a white shirt.
No gray hoodie.
She had chosen that herself.
Michael looked at her when she entered.
She looked at the judge.
Prosecutor began gently.
“Do you know the defendant?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“My dad.”
No dramatic music.
Then Monday.
Phone.
Argument.
Shove.
Counter.
Pain.
Urgent care.
ER recommendation.
Car ride.
“Did you ask your father whether you were going to the emergency room?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
“He said Mom would turn it into a divorce.”
“Did he tell you not to tell your mother?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That I’d destroy the family.”
Then Thursday ER.
“Why did you say, ‘He knows why it hurts’?”
Emily looked at Michael for the first time.
“Because he kept acting like there was no reason.”
Then cross.
Michael’s lawyer, Grant Sutter, was not cruel.
That would backfire.
He asked:
“You were angry Monday?”
“Yes.”
“You called your father an obscene name?”
“Yes.”
“You tried to take your phone from him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you push him?”
Emily hesitated.
“I put my hands on him.”
“Pushed?”
“A little.”
“So he did not attack you from across the room.”
“No.”
Good.
Then:
“When you hit the island, did your father look shocked?”
“Yes.”
That helped him.
“Did he take you to a clinic within an hour?”
“Yes.”
“Did he buy medication?”
“Yes.”
“Did he check on you overnight?”
“Yes.”
Complexity.
Then:
“At Broad Street, when the doctor asked whether anyone hurt you, you said no.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“That Dad would say I ruined everything.”
“Did he threaten to hit you if you told?”
“No.”
“Threaten to hurt your mother?”
“No.”
“Threaten to kill anyone?”
“No.”
Good.
Then:
“Is it possible your father pushed you because you were pushing past him?”
Emily looked at the jury.
“He pushed me because he was mad.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Judge instructed answer.
Emily:
“I don’t know what was in his head.”
Excellent.
Then medical delay.
“You told your father the pain felt better in the car?”
“Yes.”
For about ten minutes.
“Did you ask to go home?”
“I said I wanted my bed.”
There.
Defense had something.
Then:
“Did your father understand you had a perforated bowel?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Then prosecutor redirect:
“After you got home, did pain return?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask for ER Tuesday?”
“Yes.”
“Wednesday?”
“Yes.”
“Thursday?”
“Yes.”
“Did your father tell your mother you had been referred Monday?”
“No.”
Case regained shape.
Then Emily stepped down.
She did not collapse.
She did not give speech.
She walked past Michael.
He whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
Judge immediately warned him.
No direct communication.
Michael apologized to court.
Emily did not react until hallway.
May you like
Then she cried so hard she vomited.
Trauma does not always wait for dramatic moments.
