My father clears his throat before answering, and my heart aches for him. “Yes, I have, Your Honor.”
“And I’m sure that as a former lawyer, you understand how unlikely it is that the Supreme Court will agree to hear your case?” Judge Howard squints over the bench at Daddy for several seconds until he nods. Then she brings her arm and the paper down onto her bench with a boom that reflects the finality of her dismissal. “Mr. Beckett, you don’t have time left for me to mince words here. Assuming you aren’t one of the lucky few cases chosen, you’ve exhausted your final appeal, and your execution will be carried out as scheduled in four weeks. From what I can see here, you’ve definitely had your due process. I recommend that you and your loved ones prepare yourselves.”
Daddy doesn’t move or flinch. I’m not even certain he is breathing. My eyes don’t seem to be able to blink as I stare at him, trying to absorb the way he looks today, right now, before everything changes.
They’re going to kill him. They are going to kill my father. And there is nothing I can do to stop it. If this happened on the streets instead of in a courthouse, I could call the police. Here and now, I can do nothing but watch in horror. People around me shuffle to their feet, but my world shifts and spins and I think I might be falling until I realize I’m not the one who is moving.
Mama falls off of our bench and crashes onto the ground in front of us. It takes me a full three seconds before I can react.
“Mama!” In—and out; I remind myself to breathe as I check for her pulse. My entire world locks up, not willing to move forward until it knows that I will at least have one parent left.
Then I feel the light but steady thrum of her heartbeat and a shuddering breath forces its way free from my lungs. Leaning in to hug her close, I hear her exhale quietly against my ear. Mr. Masters has come over to us. He says something I can’t make out, and his hands are on my shoulders, pulling me back gently.
All I can hear is my own panicked muttering. “She’s still here. She’s okay. She’s okay.”
Stacia is speaking behind me and I realize she’s calling for an ambulance.
When I look down, I see blood on my shirt and realize Mama hit her head when she fell. I grab the only thing I have in my purse, a workout T-shirt, and hand it to Mr. Masters, who presses it against her head.
Nothing here makes sense. Mama never shows weakness. She never fails and she never falls. This can’t be real. It can’t be happening right now. Not after what the judge just told us. If I squeeze my eyes tight enough, I might wake up from this nightmare.
I have to wake up.
I’m on the floor with my eyes shut tight. I’m clutching my unconscious mother’s hand when I hear Judge Howard dismiss the court. The guards begin taking Daddy away.
“Wait! Wait! My wife fell. Is she okay? Amy!” His voice floats to me from far away and I open my eyes even as tears burn them. Tucking my head low so no one can see, I blink frantically until the traitorous drops fall away and then shove my dark sunglasses back onto my face.
“She’ll be okay, Daddy,” I yell out, loud enough for him to hear me. “We’ve got her.”
Newspaper reporters crowd around us and start taking pictures. I can’t hide myself from them. Stacia goes out to meet the paramedics. Mr. Masters keeps his head down and pretends the cameras aren’t there. I do the same, but now that Daddy is gone I’ve lost my strength. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop the tears that pour down my cheeks.
One of the bailiffs makes his way through the crowd and crouches next to me. He looks from me to Mama and asks, “Do you need medical assistance?”
I shake my head hard and try to wipe the tears beneath my sunglasses away. “We already called for help.”
His expression is tainted with disdain as he stands up, and I realize he thinks my mother is faking it. I look at the crowd around me, wishing the bailiff would at least make them go away, but he doesn’t, and I’m sure from the look on his face that he won’t.
After all the things I’ve experienced in places of so-called justice in the last eleven years, I would be shocked if he did anything at all. The paramedics come in, and Mr. Masters tugs me back, forcing me to drop Mama’s hand as he pulls me into a tight hug, muttering against my head that everything is going to be okay.
Mama is always so tough and strong. All of my worry has been so consumed by Daddy for my entire life that worrying about Mama feels strange. Wrong.
The tears have stopped, or I can’t feel the heat from them anymore. For the first time ever, I wish this court was even more of a circus. Because then at least the lights would fade, the crowds would leave, and I could slink away into the darkness.