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YEAR: 1969

Julian's POV•

I don't wanna go to court. I don't want to fight anymore. I just wanna go home with my mum and dad. I want Cynthia locked up. I just want everything to go back to normal.

"Julian," my foster father said.
"What?"
"Get dressed in yer suit,"
"Why?"
"Cause yer suppose to go to court. Let's go,"
"Fine," I sighed.
"Meet me in the living room in five minutes,"
"Fine."

***

"All rise for Judge Smith! Please be seated!"
"This is stupid," I mumbled.
"Behave yer self," my foster parents said.
"I wanna go home,"
"Do ye ever stop complaining?"
"Jules, don't worry, I'll get ye back," mum said as she walked by.
"Don't talk to him,"
"I can't talk to my own son?"
"Mum, just go before ye make things worse," I cried.
"Ye heard the boy! Go!"
"Bye Jules. Bye Key,"
"Go!"
"I'm going! My god!"

***

Several hours passed but eventually, the jury reached a verdict.

"Yer honor, we find the defendants, Mr. and Mrs. Lennon, not guilty,"
"Oh my god!" Mum cheered.

She began cheering and hugging everyone that wasn't Cynthia. After a few minutes, the police brought dad in; as soon as he was uncuffed, he ran to mum and picked her up.

"Hey, where are my kids!" mum yelled.
"Go," our foster parents said.
"Come on Key," I smiled as we ran to mum and dad.
"Oh my god," mum cried as we tackled her with hugs. "I missed ye so much,"
"We missed ye too,"
"I'll get them one day," Cynthia mumbled.
"Get outta here Cyn!" Dad yelled as he blocked us from Cynthia.
"She will never hurt ye again," mum whispered as she hugged us. "I promise."

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