"I want to tell you something, Indy," my mom said, pulling me closely next to her on our plastic covered couch. "You know that man I've been dating? Jameel?"
"Mhm," my 13-year-old self responded.
"Well, he asked me to marry him. And I said yes." She held the back side of her left hand up to my face, flaunting the tiny cubic zirconia ring he must have given her. Her eyes popped around my face, waiting for me to reply.
"So?" I asked.
"He's gonna be moving in with us, baby. It won't just be you and me anymore. How do you feel about that?"
"I don't care, but he's not my dad. I already have a dad," I said with attitude as I crossed my arms over my chest.
"He knows he's not your dad, Indica. But you will have to respect him as an adult. You know what that means?"
"Adults are always right, do exactly what I'm told, never talk back," I rolled my eyes, reciting the rhetoric my mom drilled in my head since I was 3.
"Exactly," she smiled, "But guess what else? He has a daughter who's your age so you finally get the sister you've been begging me for!"
"Really?" I perked up.
"Yep. And they're on their way here for dinner right now. Can you go set the table for me? Indica?"
"Indica? Indica!"
"Huh?" I shot up, snapping out of my thoughts.
"I said can you pass me that folder at the end of the table?"
"Oh," I said, reaching for the folder, "Sorry, Mrs. Tabitha."
"It's alright, honey. I know you're nervous."
Today was the first day of my trial. Tabitha and I went over everything she thought Fallon's lawyer would try to throw our way all weekend. We were going to do something today called cross-examination, where each lawyer asked me and Fallon questions in order to reveal the truth. I was first to go on the stand today, and Tabitha told me to expect extremely off the wall questions from Fallon's lawyer. She said he would try to trip me up in a lie, in order to prove to the jury that I was unreliable.
I looked over at the jury: a mix of old and young, Black, brown, white and everything in between. Those 12 people essentially held my freedom in their hands and it made me extremely nervous. My eyes found Fallon, sitting adjacent from our table, staring down at her thumbs. She looked unkempt, which was the opposite of how she looked at the original court date for the lawsuit. I looked over at her lawyer and he was just as over-confident as the first time I saw him, toting that same pompous smirk and self-assured aura.
Ayanna was sitting on the other side of Tabitha, switching between organizing papers and typing something on the laptop in front of her. It did bother me that she had to be here, seeing as though she almost made me lose my job, but Tabitha said Ayanna's role was essential. She kept all of the details of the case readily available for Tabitha to reference during court, and documented all of the important things the prosecution asks that she may able to use in the future.
I looked behind me at Charlie, who reached up from the wooden pew in the gallery and rubbed my shoulder a few times.
"All rise for the Honorable Judge Matthews," the bailiff announced in a stern voice.
I stood up from my wooden chair along with everyone else in the court room and watched the judge appear from a hidden door right behind his bench.
"You may be seated," he said, situating himself in his black, leather chair. He shuffled through a few freshly printed documents until stopping at one and scanning it.
