Chapter 7 - The Courtroom
Family Court room 4B smelled like lemon polish and despair.
I sat on the hard wooden bench behind the defendant's table. Clara sat beside our lawyer, Marcus Vance. Marcus was an older man with a neat white beard, sharp eyes, and a suit that looked like it had seen a hundred battles.
On the other side of the aisle sat my mother, wearing a modest, conservative dress to play the part of the grieving mother. Next to her was Richard Sterling, looking incredibly smug, surrounded by three lawyers in thousand-dollar suits.
The judge, a stern-looking woman named Judge Ramirez, banged her gavel.
"We are here to determine the emergency custody placement of six minors, and the eviction proceedings regarding the property at 424 Elm Street," Judge Ramirez announced. "The state claims the nineteen-year-old sister, Clara, is unfit to provide."
Richard’s lead attorney stood up. He spent twenty minutes painting Clara as a negligent, poverty-stricken teenager. He cited her lack of income, the fact that our utilities had been shut off (conveniently ignoring who shut them off), and claimed that my mother was a reformed woman who could provide a stable, wealthy home with her new fiancé.
"Your Honor," the slick lawyer concluded. "It is in the best interest of these children to be placed in state care until the mother is prepared to reintegrate them. Clara is a child trying to play house."
Clara gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white, but she didn't speak. She trusted Marcus.
Marcus Vance stood up slowly. He didn't pace. He didn't shout. He walked straight to the center of the room.
"Your Honor," Marcus said smoothly. "The opposing counsel speaks of stability. Let's talk about stability. For a year, while Evelyn was off finding her 'new start,' Clara worked nights, cooked meals, attended parent-teacher conferences, and kept six children out of the system. She didn't play house. She built one."
Marcus turned to Mrs. Higgins, who was sitting in the gallery. "We have twenty sworn affidavits from neighbors, teachers, and local business owners testifying to Clara's exceptional care."
The opposing lawyer scoffed. "Character references don't pay the mortgage, Your Honor. The property belongs to Mr. Sterling. They are being evicted. They have no home."
Marcus smiled. It was a terrifying, brilliant smile. "Ah, yes. The property."
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Marcus walked back to his table, picked up the thick folder Clara had assembled, and slammed it down in front of the judge.
"Your Honor, I would like to submit Exhibit C. A collection of financial documents proving that Mr. Sterling obtained the deed to the Elm Street property through a fraudulent shell company, utilizing illegal bribes paid directly to City Zoning Commissioner Hayes."
