Chapter 12 - MY SLAP
Celeste’s cheek bruised.
She had mild neck soreness after hitting the dining chair.
No fracture.
No concussion.
I was charged with misdemeanor assault.
Some relatives were outraged.
At the prosecutor.
Not me.
“He defended Eva.”
No.
Eva had the locket back.
Celeste reached toward it.
I knocked her hand away.
That was enough to stop the immediate reach.
Then I slapped her.
Punishment.
Anger.
Not necessary defense.
My lawyer did not romanticize it.
Neither did I.
The prosecutor offered diversion.
Anger-management.
Restitution for Celeste’s documented medical expenses attributable to my strike.
No unlawful contact.
No new offense.
Completion could result in dismissal.
I accepted.
My instructor, Dr. Malcolm Reed, asked:
“What were you trying to protect?”
“My daughter.”
“From what at the second you slapped?”
I stopped.
“Not the locket. I had already stopped her hand.”
“Then?”
“From being treated like Mara didn’t matter.”
“Can a slap protect a memory?”
“No.”
“What did Eva see?”
“Her father hit someone.”
“After someone frightened her.”
“Yes.”
“So what lesson?”
I did not like the answer.
“Power decides whose feelings count.”
May you like
He nodded.
That sentence stayed.
