Page 135 of Never Bet Against A Hockey Player

“She was no longer a minor then,” she bit out, full venom returning. “The rest is irrelevant now.”

That statement had murmurs breaking out through the courtroom again. The judge simply had to tap his gavel once, and the room quieted quickly.

“You are right. However, Dhara’s and Gavin’s statements during each of those twenty-six visits, show systematic abuse that was overlooked by the system. I’d like to submit them into evidence.”

He walked back over, pulled something from his briefcase, and carried the stack of papers back to the judge.

Judge Lancaster adjusted his glasses and read over them. The quiet in the courtroom as the minutes ticked by was suffocating. He kept his expression neutral, but I could see his teeth clench.

The fear of losing was quickly washed away. Our lawyer was out for blood. Hers was practically shaking at this point. Every defense they had he systematically tore apart with no remorse.

Our lawyer went another few rounds with my mother, boxing her into corner after corner, submitting character witnesses that showcased what kind of person—and mother—she really was.

Then it was my turn.

“Is it true that you tried to keep your brother away from your mother every day?” her lawyer asked, drawing out the words and looking confident again.

“Yes, because I feared what she would do. My mother had abused me for years. I feared she would do the same and on several instances took the hit so he wouldn’t have to. She took over half of every paycheck while I had to use what was left to cover our bills and put food in the fridge. She stole from me so I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.”

“She gave it willingly!” my mother screamed. Her lawyer gave her a look. So did the judge. She quieted down and my lawyer turned his focus back to me.

“I didn’t ask about the money,” he said. “Please answer the question.”

“I did,” I reminded him.

“Yes, I kept him away by enrolling him in the Junior Renegades hockey league and by making sure he went to school on time. He ate breakfast every morning at my job at South Lake Diner, then went to school. I was responsible for pickup, doctor’s appointments, and everything in between.”

This was not going how he’d pictured. I could tell by his voice faltering over the next questions. Each of them was a new trap to try and prove I was keeping her child away from her.

There wasn’t a single time that I held him hostage or kept him from her. The truth was my answer every time and the way I stayed calm only made her look more unhinged.

All I’ve done for his entire life was give him stability.

Then it was our lawyer’s turn to ask the questions. He was much kinder with me than he had been with our mother.

“Can you explain the first time you took care of your brother?”

“When she brought him home,” I said evenly. “She claimed she was in too much pain and tossed the bag of diapers and formula at me. Back then, I had to do my best to feed him and change him. I reminded her when we were running low and sometimes she’d bring them.”

“And this care continued as he grew?” he asked.

“Yes. I taught him to read and how to be independent. I played with him, made sure he went to school,” I trailed off, unsure how far to take this one.

“Who enrolled him in school?”

“I did. She signed the papers, and I took them in and filled them out. I was the one to pick him up and the one they called most of the time,” I admitted. Even the staff knew she was useless back then.

Then the questions shifted.

“When did your mother first put her hands on you?”

“I don’t remember,” I said honestly. “I don’t remember a time when she didn’t,” I clarified quickly. “If I cleaned wrong, if I bought the wrong things at the store, if I took too long to come home after school or if we had a day off school that she didn’t remember, I was punished for skipping.”

“Can you clarify by telling the court about those punishments?”

“Objection. This is not an abuse case for the sibling, this is a custody hearing,” her lawyer called out.

“I’m getting to the relevance,” my lawyer reassured the judge. He had a small smile on his face like he was loving every minute of this. That made telling my darkest secrets to the court a little easier to handle. If he was confident, why shouldn’t I be?