Chapter 13
The courthouse smelled like old paper and floor cleaner. I sat on a bench that was too tall and my legs didn't touch the ground right because one of them had the new bandage under my jeans. Ms. Elena knelt down so her face was level with mine and her folder rested on her knees.
She said this wasn't a trial like on TV. She said a judge would ask questions, and people would talk about what happened to my leg, and I didn't have to tell the whole story unless I wanted to. She said the word safety a lot. She said placement, which meant staying with Ms. Carla. She said hearing, which sounded like listening.
"Do you understand what the judge does?" she asked.
"He decides where I go," I said.
"He decides what's safe," she said. "And he listens to everyone. Even you, if you want."
I nodded. My hands were on my knees. The hallway had pale walls like the exam room but bigger, and fluorescent lights that hummed. Dad sat two benches down with a man in a suit. He didn't look at me at first. He wore a clean shirt and his hair was combed. He kept turning his baseball cap over in his hands.
A side door opened and a clerk called our last name. Inside, the hearing room was smaller than I thought. No big wood everywhere. Just a table, some chairs, and a raised desk where the judge sat. She was a woman with glasses and gray hair pulled back. She didn't wear a black robe, just a dark blazer. There was a box of tissues on the table and a pitcher of water nobody drank.
Ms. Elena sat next to me. Dad sat across the table with his lawyer. I saw the nurse from the clinic at the far end, the woman in light blue scrubs, but today she wore a navy sweater and her ID badge was clipped to her pocket. Her hair was still pulled back tight. When she saw me she gave a small nod, not a smile, just an I'm here.
The judge started by saying the date and the case number into a recorder. She said we were there to review medical evidence and statements and to decide on a temporary safety plan. She said this was not a final decision about my family.
Then she asked the nurse to speak.
The nurse stood. She spoke clearly and without rushing. She said she was the clinician on call that afternoon in the exam room. She said I came in wearing the bright blue rigid inflatable leg splint with black straps encasing my lower leg. She said I was seated on the exam cot and was distressed and hesitant.
She repeated what she'd said before, word for word. She said she said, "Let me see it." She said I said, "Don't take it." She said she carefully manipulated the straps and removed the blue splint. Then she paused.
"Upon removal," she said, "there was immediate reveal of severe bruising, abrasions, and a bloody open wound to the lower leg and knee with dark discoloration. The injury had been completely covered and not visible until the splint was taken off."
The judge looked down at photos in a folder. I didn't look. I looked at the table grain.
"And the child's statement about the object?" the judge asked.
"He said, 'My dad gave me those colors,'" the nurse said. She didn't look at Dad when she said it.
Dad's lawyer asked if the injury could have been from falling off a bike. The nurse said the pattern, the depth of the bruising, and the abrasion were not consistent with a single bicycle fall and the wound had been covered for some time without proper care.
The judge turned to Dad. She asked him to explain the colors.
Dad cleared his throat. He said the splint was a gift, blue was my favorite, he thought it would make me feel tough, like a superhero. He said I did fall, at the apartment parking lot, off my scooter near the sidewalk. He said I cried but then I seemed okay, so he put the splint on to help. He said he didn't realize how bad it was underneath. His voice shook a little on realize.
The judge didn't interrupt. She compared his account out loud to the nurse's notes and the ER report that came after. She said the medical timeline didn't match a same-day scooter fall. She said the wound needed days of care it didn't get. She said covering it with an inflatable splint would have hidden it and made it worse.
Dad looked down at his cap.
The judge then looked at me, not hard, just steady. She asked if there was anything I wanted her to know.
My mouth was dry. Ms. Elena put her hand lightly on the edge of the table near me, not touching, just there. I said, "I didn't want to get him in trouble. I liked the blue."
The judge nodded slowly. "Thank you for telling the truth about that," she said.
She closed the folder. She said she had enough to decide for now. She ordered that the out-of-home safety plan continue, that I would stay placed with Ms. Carla where my wound care and school could continue. She ordered Dad to complete a parenting assessment and services, and to keep his visits supervised at the center with no talk about the case. She said she was not ending his rights, she was making time for safety and for services to happen. She set another review date next month.
Dad didn't say anything. His lawyer nodded for him. Ms. Elena wrote it all down.
May you like
When we stood to leave, the nurse stopped by me for a second. She said, "You did good keeping your leg still for the doctors." I nodded. Dad walked past us toward the hallway door. He glanced at me and I didn't know if I was supposed to wave. I kept my hands still.
In the hallway again, the lights still hummed. My legs finally touched the ground when I slid off the bench.
