Chapter 7: Processing
By midmorning the preliminary picture was clear.
Garrick had arrived carrying an unregistered compact firearm. The protective order was active and properly served. The prior recorded threats, the documented injuries, and the financial retaliation on the day of the divorce filing formed a coherent pattern that local prosecutors were not inclined to minimize. Ethan’s parallel review on the additional weapon indicators remained open and quiet.
I met my mother’s attorney at the courthouse while the first appearance calendar was being set. Clara stayed at a third temporary location with a victim advocate present. She was not required to attend every procedural step, and I did not ask her to.
“He’s already framing this as an overreaction driven by you,” the attorney said, reviewing the early defense notes. “Classic. The estranged daughter, the retired administrator with a grudge, the fragile wife being manipulated.”
“He can frame it however he wants,” I said. “The firearm, the order, and the medical record don’t care about the frame.”
She nodded.
“We’ll keep the domestic case tight and factual. The more he performs, the less credible he becomes.”
May you like
Outside the courthouse the day was bright and ordinary. I stood for a moment on the steps and checked the encrypted folder on my phone. Every photograph, every message, every timestamp remained in sequence. Garrick’s version of events would have to climb over that sequence to gain any height.
It would not climb far.
