Black Iris

Mother's pain

Iris

I hated it.

I hated the feeling, sitting in my chest, that something bad was going to happen.

Waiting.

Knowing, that at any moment it would all unravel.

"Mrs Alto, is it true that your guardianship of Ms. Ophelia Alto is under conditional supervisory visits by the department of child services?"

Straight to the point. I don't know why I expected any less from our on-the-nose lawyer.

After grilling me about my interrogation with the judge for ten minutes, he had finally relented when said judge called the court to attention and brought the jury in.

Now, it was onto another grilling.

Mrs. Alto kept her cool, though. She replied, "Yes, that is true. Myself and my husband want what is best for Ophelia, and those visits are to ensure that."

"And to confirm, Mrs. Alto, that is due to your sometimes violent behaviour towards your daughter."

"I wouldn't say violent, no," she said.

"How would you describe it?"

"Well, in the past, Mitch, my husband, and I, we've made mistakes. We grew up in a different era, were raised different. So we raised Ophelia that way, but we got it wrong sometimes."

"Just so the jury is clear, Mrs. Alto, by getting it wrong, you mean domestic violence," Johansson said.

On the other side of the room Ophelia's lawyer raised a hand, "Objection, your honour, leading question."

"Sustained."

I saw Johansson clench his jaw. "Understood, your honour. Let me instead read from a statement issued by the department of domestic affairs, regarding Mr. and Mrs. Alto's custody of Ophelia, dated April 3rd of this year. I quote;

"The department has taken action regarding the testimony of Ms. Ophelia Alto. We will be working closely with the local police force regarding her situation. In the past few weeks we have been inundated with calls and reports about this situation. While we appreciate the public's openness and responsibility to care for our youth, please do not harass our staff about this case, and please respect Ms. Alto's privacy.

"In this statement it is clear that much of the public was concerned for your daughters welfare. Why might this be, Mrs Alto?"

Mrs alto stared at him, shocked. Honestly, I was pretty shocked too. He knew where this would go. Territory that we didn't want it to go.

"Because, Mr Johansson," Mrs Alto said slowly. "A week or so before that statement was made, my daughter published a first hand account of the trauma inflicted upon her by your client."

The court room was silent. Blake was fuming beside me. Johansson had just dropped the ball on this one.

Now it had been mentioned, the novel could be brought as evidence to the jury.

So if we weren't fucked already, we were royally fucked now.

But if Johansson realised how big of a fuck up that was, he didn't let on. He kept pushing.

"If, as you say, the first hand account was about my client, however at that point, your daughter was under your care instead, why was the public still so concerned for her welfare, Mrs. Alto?"

He was an idiot. I was sure of it. So overconfident, but had no idea what he was doing.

"Have you read the book?" She asked.