41. Question After Question

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She walked closer, a bit too close to my liking. My already sweaty palms produce more and more sweat and I constantly whipped it away with my pants. My glance constantly shifted position, afraid of catching her hunting eyes. She was intimidating in her finest piece of clothing and with the intense ponytail. 

She cleared her throat. "You said your father, my client, had abused you for five years. 

"That's correct," I croaked and slightly covered my mouth. 

"Why didn't you reach out to your family, 'cause you did live with more than just your father, am I right?" 

"I was scared." 

"Yes, you said that when Mr. Martinez asked, but I'm not asking the same as him. I'm asking why you didn't tell your family. Was there even something to be told?" 

"I... uhm... I don't have the best relationship with those family members I lived with and my brother had left, so I guess I just thought my other family member didn't care." 

"You guess? That's not good enough for me." She walked closed, keeping her arms tightly to her chest and her nose slightly lifted. I bit my lip and looked down at the table. "Why didn't you tell your family? Because you do love them, don't you?" 

I clenched my jaw and looked up. "Of course I do!" 

She smiled. "Then, do you also love your father?" 

I opened my mouth, but there came nothing out. My body had shut down and I got thrown into a white room where only me and my thoughts. They circled around me, saying different things they wanted me to believe, but what did I really believe. Did I still love my father? Even after all he had done. 

I shook my head and glanced over at Anthony. He had raised his hand to his mouth and was looking straight at me with no expression whatsoever. Nothing at all. My eyes traveled further over the audience. Every pair of eyes waited for my answer and I didn't know if I could give it to them. It was so hard. My father would always be family; my own flesh and blood. How can you not love your family? 

"I... I... I," I mumbled looking down at the table again. 

"You what?" she spat back at me with her harsh voice. 

"I-"

"Objection, your honor. I do not tolerate my witness to be asked such questions in such manners. She has been through a lot and she doesn't need this!" Antonio stood from his seat and looked the judge right in the eye. 

The judge nodded and shifted her eyes over at my mom. "Mrs. Watson, I ask you to be more polite and let her answer." She returned her eyes back to Antonio. "And calm down, Mr. Martinez, Mrs. Watson is also just doing her job."

"I will, your honor." Antonio sat down again, placing his hands on the table in front of him.

My mom cleared her throat again. "You were about to answer."

"Uhm yes." I took a deep breath. This was it. "I do love my father, however, the man who sits over there is no longer my father. As soon as he laid a hand on me, he ripped that title away from himself and he'll probably never gain it back. So yes, I love my father, just not the man he has become."

Mother lifted her eyebrows as she looked weirdly at me. "Huh?" She quickly shook her head when she heard her own words. "That was it. I do not wish to ask any more questions." My mother turned her back towards me and returned to her chair.

"Good, then let's proceed." I hadn't even gotten down to my seat before my mom stood again.

"I would like to call John Watson up to the stand," she said firmly and made sure she only got eye contact with the judge. I took that chance to hurry back in my seat. Mrs. Green laid a comforting hand on my shoulder as I sat down.

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