Chapter 16 - The Empty Chair
The months before trial were harder than the day of the attack in ways I hadn't expected. There were days I forgot to be afraid. Then a shopping cart would rattle behind me, or someone would raise an arm too quickly, and my body would remember for me.
I started seeing a counselor named Dr. Helen Cho. She didn't hand me a slogan or tell me to forgive anybody.
"What happens when you walk into the kitchen?" she asked.
"I look up at the camera. Then I hate that I have to."
"Both reactions make sense. What would help the room feel like yours again?"
I bought a wooden broom with a soft blue handle. The first time I used it, I cried halfway through sweeping. The second time, I finished the floor. There was no music, no triumph. Just clean tile.
Work returned slowly. The engineering board reviewed our evidence, the system logs, and the independent file analysis. It concluded that the disputed seals were unauthorized and closed its inquiry into my conduct without discipline. Harbor Structural still had to improve its document controls, and we did.
Imani pinned the board's letter inside a cabinet, not on a wall of awards.
"We don't need to celebrate surviving somebody else's fraud," she said. "But we can remember that the truth held."
The county began claims against the contractor's surety and arranged emergency aid. Repairs would take time, but families finally knew what had been done to their houses.
Teresa came by with a photograph of her children standing beside a temporary apartment window. "They're safe," she said. "We're still angry, but we're safe."
I placed the picture on my desk.
That afternoon, Sofia called to review testimony. Diane's lawyers planned to use my slap of Ryan as proof that I was unpredictable.
"I won't pretend I didn't hit him," I said.
May you like
"You shouldn't. Tell the whole sequence."
Then Sofia asked a question that stayed with me all night: "Can you watch the entire video, from before Diane walked into the kitchen, without looking away?"
