Chapter 6
Linda’s trial began four months later.
By then, I had moved into my own apartment.
I had started taking design projects again.
At first, I could only work for an hour at a time. Then two. Then whole afternoons.
Creating something beautiful with my hands helped me remember that my body was not only a place where pain had happened.
It was still mine.
The courtroom was full on the first day.
Linda wore a dark blue dress and looked smaller than I remembered.
But when she saw me, her eyes were still hard.
She did not look sorry.
She looked angry that I had survived long enough to tell the truth.
The prosecutor played the kitchen video.
No one moved.
The recording had no sound for a few seconds.
Then Linda’s voice filled the room.
“You’re so lazy you can sleep in the middle of the house?”
My stomach turned.
The video showed her kick me.
It showed me curl around my baby.
It showed blood on the floor.
Linda’s lawyer said she had panicked.
He said she did not know I was pregnant.
That was a lie.
There were ultrasound pictures on the refrigerator.
Linda had attended my first doctor’s appointment.
She had been in the room when the doctor told us we were having a baby.
Then Ethan testified.
I had not known whether he would.
When he took the stand, he looked at Linda.
His voice shook.
“My mother told me Emily was weak,” he said. “She made me think everything was Emily’s fault.”
Linda whispered, “Ethan.”
He looked at her for the first time without fear.
“You hurt my wife. You killed my child.”
Linda began crying.
But the tears did not change the evidence.
When the jury found her guilty, I closed my eyes.
I did not cheer.
I did not smile.
I just breathed.
For months, I had carried guilt that was never mine.
That day, the law said clearly what I had needed to hear.
May you like
Linda had done this.
Not me.
