Closing my eyes, I do something I haven’t done since I was a young boy. I pray.
For my daughter and for her mom. I vow to go straight if Amelia comes home. I’ll make shit right with her, I’ll beg and plead for her to be with me and spend every single day for the rest of our lives making it up to her… just so long as she comes home.
32
Amelia
“Guilty.”
That one word that causes the most destruction has my legs tingling, going numb from my toes right up to my heart.
I fall back onto the chair and hold onto the arm rests, feeling my skin straining over my knuckles. It’s the only thing I can feel. The rushing of blood is the only thing I can hear other than the judge’s voice. Guilty.
Every breath I take is weighed down by shock, flashes of a future away from my daughter.
My lawyer said I’d be home tonight.
He said I’d be holding my daughter and singing her a lullaby as I put her to bed.
He said this was an easy win for him and I trusted him.
“Let this be a lesson to everyone, it doesn’t matter what your background is, there is a zero-tolerance policy when you are brought before me.”
I try to keep up but the lack of air in my lungs is making it difficult.
“Amelia Haynes, I sentence you to two years to be carried out at the Bolton Correctional Facility. Bailiff, take her away.”
My lawyer whispers something in my ear, but I don’t hear a word, I’m focused on the huge bald guy planting his feet in front of me. He slaps handcuffs on me and pulls me up to my feet. This is not happening.
This is not happening.
This is not happening.
Guilty. This isn’t right. Before I can turn to my dad, I’m dragged from the courtroom, each door slamming shut behind me.
It takes three days before I can use the phone and the only number I know is my father’s. I’m desperate to hear about Elsa and hear her gargled noises over the phone. I need it like air to breathe and survive. Hopefully he can tell me what’s going on.
I listen to the automated voice tell my father who’s calling from the prison and then my father accepting the call.
“Amelia, oh sweetheart, how are you? It’s been hell the last few days waiting for you to call.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve just been…”
I’ve been what? I can’t even think straight to answer him.
“As soon as we’re off the phone, I’m going to put some money onto your books, you’ll be able to get some comforts.”
Looking around, there’s nothing that could comfort me. I don’t tell him this, I don’t want him to worry any further.
“Where was Clare? I thought our lawyer was going to break her?”
That was the plan. To rip apart her testimony and get the truth from her.
“She’s disappeared. No one’s seen her, but Darius is looking.”
I suppose it doesn’t matter now. The verdict has been passed down and I’m wearing an orange jumpsuit.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
