Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“She wouldn’t have needed to kill him if the courts had done their job.”
“We should be paying her for taking out the trash.”
“This is what is wrong with the system. They always make out the victims are the perpetrators.”
The judge doesn’t appear bothered by the catcalling and booing. He walks to his bench with a mountain load of files stuffed under his arm and his glasses balancing precariously on the end of his nose.
The room falls into silence when we’re instructed to sit.
My backside has barely touched my seat when I am told to remain standing.
Here it comes. The outcome of my decision is about to be unearthed.
“I am of the belief you’ve pled guilty, Ms. Palkova?” When I nod, the judge looks down at me over his glasses. “Have you been threatened or coerced into pleading guilty?” Shock rains down on him when I switch my nod to a head-shake. “Would you like to say anything on your own behalf before I make my ruling?”
My attorney announced the verdict would be quick, but I didn’t anticipate proceedings to move so fast.
After a big breath, endeavoring to remove the nerves from my voice, I nod. “Only that I trust your v-verdict and the process on which you took to reach it.”
He dips his chin. Appreciation that I’m not going to hold up proceedings longer than necessary is seen all over his face. “Have you reviewed the pre-sentence report with your attorney?”
Again, I nod.
“So you are aware the ruling handed down today will be ratified immediately and without further endorsement from either the ADA or your attorney?”
I dip my chin, too choked with emotions to speak.
“Very well.” He breathes out noisily, silencing everyone. “Under Section 272, if a person has assaulted another or provoked an assault from another, and the victim believes they need to use force to defend themselves or they will be killed or seriously harmed, the victim is not criminally responsible for the consequences.” I lose the ability to breathe when he says, “However, in the case presented before me, there is no evidence that the victim caused grievous bodily harm to Ms. Palkova—”
“This time, your honor, but what about the multiple other times!”
The judge acts as if my attorney didn’t speak. “And as such, I am under no obligation to accept the claimant’s claims that the act was under the pursuant of self-defense.” He pushes his glasses up his nose before peering down at me. “Your pledge of guilt is accepted by the court, and as so, I order a three-year non-probationary period to be served at a medium-security prison.”
He whacks down his gavel, sending the court-goers into a frenzy.
I’m shocked but also relieved.
Three years is nothing compared to how many wonderful years Tillie has left to live, and I suffered almost daily abuse for far longer than that, but how could the judge have read my files and not understood why I would fear for my life while standing across from my father? Ark understood from nothing but a glance. That’s why he killed my father. He knew if I were in the same predicament, I would have done the exact same thing.
He saved me that night as much as he did Tillie.
That’s another reason I’m taking the blame for his crime.
“Mommy,” Tillie whispers in confusion when the bailiff commences moving me back toward the dock before I get to say goodbye.
“It’s okay, baby. Everything will be okay.”
She’s upset and crying but mercifully being comforted by the man I know is never capable of hurting her.
Ark bobs down to Tillie’s level to wipe away her tears and whisper promises in her ear. He’s shockingly calm. I shouldn’t be surprised. The lengths a parent will go to safeguard their child is remarkable, second only to how honorably they love them.
I’m pulled partway through the dock’s door by a correction services officer when his steps are thwarted by a raised voice. “Can I please approach the bench?”
I can’t breathe when Detective Pascall bursts through the swinging doors that separate the court from the pews like permission was given. I haven’t seen her since I invited her to Ark’s apartment to hear my confession. Her presence wasn’t necessary, but I needed her to hear my confession in person. Its impact wouldn’t have been anywhere near as effective if she had read it on a piece of paper.
I needed her to identify the signs of abuse so she could make sure her daughter holds none of them.
“Ms. Pascall, the hearing is over,” the judge says. “Any chance for rebuttal shall be saved for if the defendant chooses to appeal my verdict.”
She nods as if familiar with court proceedings before wetting her lips. “It is important, your honor.”
“It very well could be, but you have no jurisdiction here. The verdict has been handed down and already implemented.”