Chapter 5 - The Weight on a Child
The prospect of putting Connor on the witness stand was a knife to my heart. He was already waking up three times a night from nightmares, screaming that the juice boxes in the fridge were turning into spiders.
I took him to see Dr. Elena Carter, a renowned child psychologist who worked with victims of extreme domestic trauma. Her office didn't look like a clinic; it was filled with beanbag chairs, soft lighting, and shelves of toys.
While Connor was in the corner building a massive fortress out of wooden blocks, Dr. Carter sat with me on the couch.
"He carries an immense amount of survival guilt, Hannah," Dr. Carter said softly. "He feels that because he had the video and didn't show you immediately, he is responsible for his sister’s death. If we put him in a courtroom with Diane glaring at him, it could cause severe regression."
"Is there another way?" I asked, looking at my brave little boy who was currently placing a plastic elephant on top of his wooden fort.
"We can petition for a closed-circuit deposition," Dr. Carter suggested. "He can sit in this office, with me and the judge, and answer the questions through a camera. He won't have to see his aunt, and he won't have to face the gallery."
That evening, I sat on the floor of Connor’s bedroom while he wrapped Mr. Peanuts in a small blanket.
"Connor," I said gently, "the lawyers need you to tell a judge about the video. But you don't have to go to the big scary building. You can do it from Dr. Carter's playroom. Do you think you can do that for Gracie?"
May you like
Connor looked down at the stuffed elephant, his small fingers stroking its frayed ears. "If I tell the judge the truth, will Gracie know I didn't mean to keep the secret?"
I pulled him into a tight embrace, burying my face in his hair. "Gracie knows you love her, Connor. She knows you were trying to be a good big brother. You are the hero of this story, baby. Never forget that."
