The prosecutor kept talkin’, paintin’ Kay’Lo like he was some reckless killer who woke up that day lookin’ for a reason to take somebody out. They left out every piece of context that mattered, and I could feel my anger buildin’ as they spoke. They talked about my husband like he wasn’t a human bein’, like he wasn’t a man with a family and a life and a whole heart. They kept sayin’ double homicide like it was just words, like they didn’t care what it meant.
Then the defense spoke, and Kay’Lo’s lawyer was sharp, respectful, and firm, but I could tell he was walkin’ a line ‘cause in court you had to act like the system was fair even when it wasn’t.
My stomach stayed tight, ‘cause I knew what day one was for. Day one was for plantin’ seeds. It was for makin’ sure the jury saw Kay’Lo the way they wanted them to see him, and it was for lettin’ Echo cry on cue so the public could fall for it.
When that bitch finally walked in, I felt it in my whole body, like my skin got hot.
The camera caught her comin’ to the stand, and she looked like she had practiced this bullshit in a mirror. Her hair was laid, I guess. Her face was soft, and her outfit was picked to make her look innocent, and she had that same look in her eyes she always had, like she was waitin’ on the world to give her what she wanted. She sat down, swore in, and then started talkin’ like she was a victim of a story she wrote herself.
She talked about Kay’Lo bein’ possessive, and she talked about him showin’ up places, and she talked about feelin’ scared, but I knew there was no evidence of that fuckin’ shit, and I knew she was only sayin’ it ‘cause she wanted to rewrite history. She wanted to stand in front of a jury and act like she ain’t chase him, send messages, show up where we was and insert herself into my marriage like she was entitled to him.
Watchin’ her do it made my teeth grind.
I could feel my baby shift, and I placed my hand on my belly, rubbin’ it slow, tryna calm both of us down at the same time. My mind was goin’ a thousand places. I kept thinkin’ about how easy it was for Echo to sit there cryin’ when she wasn’t the one carryin’ a child while her husband fought for his life in court. And the further I got in this pregnancy, the more my fear felt real in a way I wasn’t ready for.
I kept picturin’ me in our bed at night with my belly empty after birth, and My’Love cryin’ in the crib, and me walkin’ around the house alone, and Kay’Lo not there. I kept picturin’ birthdays where his presence empty. I kept picturin’ Treasure holdin’ my baby while I tried to keep a straight face, and I kept picturin’ Echo somewhere smilin’ ‘cause she got what she wanted, even if she pretended it was about her brothers.
The truth was, Echo didn’t just want justice. That bitch wanted control, and revenge. She wanted Kay’Lo destroyed, and she wanted me to suffer too, ‘cause in her mind, if she couldn’t have him, then I ain’t deserve him either.
That thought made my stomach twist, and it made my anger feel bigger than my fear for a second.
Treasure ain’t speak much while the trial played, but every once in a while, she would shake her head under her breath, and I could tell she was tryna stay calm.
When the court day ended and the livestream cut, I sat there for a minute like I ain’t know what to do with my hands. My body felt heavy. My baby moved again, and I rubbed my belly, tryna get my breath under control. Treasure told me to come sit down on the couch, and I did for a lil’ while, but then I got up again and walked into the nursery like my feet took me there on their own.
I stood in the doorway and looked around. I touched the edge of the crib and swallowed hard. “You gon’ have your daddy,” Iwhispered, and even though my voice was low, it shook a lil’, ‘cause I ain’t know if I was speakin’ hope or beggin’ God.
Moments later, while I was back on the couch with Treasure, clips started poppin’ up online from outside the courthouse, and that was when I saw Echo again.
She was standin’ in front of a journalist like she was a celebrity doin’ press, and she was dressed in a white pencil skirt that hugged her like she wanted attention, and a fitted top that made her look clean and innocent on camera. Her voice had that performative sadness mixed with confidence like she knew the cameras loved her.
She smiled for a second before she spoke, and that smile made somethin’ in me shift.
Echo said the first day was really good, and she felt like justice was finally close, and she said she believed Kay’Lo deserved the death penalty.
I leaned forward, replayin’ the clip, and my hand gripped the edge of the couch so tight my knuckles hurt.
The words death penalty sat in my spirit like poison, and that bitch said it like she couldn’t wait. She said it like she was already picturin’ my husband gone.
My baby moved again, hard this time, and I placed my hand on my belly and tried to breathe through it, but my throat was tight and my eyes burned. I wasn’t cryin’ yet, but I could feel the tears sittin’ right there behind my eyes, ‘cause the reality of it was crashin’ down on me in a way it hadn’t before.
This was really my life, and I hated that I couldn’t be in that courtroom to look my husband in his eyes and let him feel me there. I hated that I had to watch my marriage be talked about like it was entertainment.
Treasure rubbed my arm and spoke soft. “Toni, we gon’ get through this.”
I nodded ‘cause I ain’t trust my voice, and I ain’t wanna scare her with what was sittin’ on my heart.
I kept watchin’ that clip, though, and I kept watchin’ Echo’s mouth move like she had the right to speak death over my husband. And I could feel somethin’ inside me risin’, like a line was bein’ drawn in my spirit.
Even though Kay’Lo had told me to stay out the courtroom ‘cause he was tryna protect me, I knew one thing for sure…
I wasn’t about to let nobody play with my family like we was disposable, and I wasn’t about to sit back and watch a bitter ass hoe build a story that could take my child’s father away.
One week later…
As I moved through the parkin’ lot of the support group building, my shoes smacked against the pavement and my umbrella kept tryna flip inside out from the wind. The rain had been falling on and off all day, but right now it was coming down harder, like the sky was mad too, and I couldn’t tell if that made me feel comforted or more irritated.
I had been promoting this group online for weeks, posting flyers and schedules, talking about grief and community. I spoke about how families needed somewhere to put their pain when the world got tired of hearing it, and I meant it enough to show up and play my part.
