Chapter 5 - The Restraining Order
The temporary restraining order hearing was held a week later. I walked into the courthouse wearing a sharp blazer, my bruise concealed by makeup, my head held high. Sarah walked beside me like an armored guard.
My parents were already sitting on the opposite bench. My father scoffed loudly when he saw me. My mother glared, whispering something to their discount defense attorney.
When the judge called our case, my parents' lawyer immediately launched into a sob story. He painted me as a hysterical, ungrateful daughter who had exaggerated a minor scuffle to get out of paying rent.
"Your Honor, my client simply disciplined his daughter, who was acting erratically. There was no real violence," the lawyer argued.
The judge, a stern woman with no time for games, turned to Sarah. "Counsel?"
"Your Honor, we don't need to argue about what happened," Sarah said smoothly. "We have the event recorded in high definition."
She handed a tablet to the bailiff, who brought it to the judge's bench. My parents' faces paled. They had completely forgotten about the camera.
The courtroom was dead silent as the video played. The judge watched it once. Then she watched it again. When she looked up, her eyes were like flint.
"Mr. Arthur," the judge said, her voice dripping with contempt. "You struck a woman holding a sick child with enough force to knock her to the ground. You are a danger to society."
She granted a five-year permanent restraining order. They were forbidden from coming within 500 feet of me, Leo, my workplace, or his school.
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As we walked out of the courtroom, my father lunged toward me, his face purple with rage. "You little—!"
Two bailiffs tackled him to the floor before he could finish the sentence. He was dragged out in handcuffs for violating court decorum and attempting to assault a protected person.
