Page 19 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 9-12
“What do you mean?” the officer had asked.
“It’s in the Old Testament, ain’t it?”
Damian forced the memory back.
“Did he make you testify against me?”
Dalia’s nostrils flared. “You hit him, Damian. What was I supposed to do, take your side?! You were out of line.”
“He knocked Armada to the ground. She was a baby.”
“The high chair wasn’t stable. It was a slap.”
“She wasn’t even a year old.”
Dalia slapped the table. “It’s not a crime to discipline a child. You were killing him. You were out of control.”
Heat burned in Damian’s shoulders and down his arms. His fingers tightened against each other.
“Does he hit Habibi like that? Does he hit the other kids like he used to hit us?”
“Our father is a good man. He keeps his house in order. Something you wouldn’t know anything about.”
“Who’s my mother, Dalia?”
“Same as mine.”
Damian waited. Dalia held her tongue.
“Why are Armada and I fully siblings, Dalia?”
She had opened her mouth to spout off, but the question ground her to a halt. “You’re doing that lawyer thing, asking trick questions.”
“No trick.” Damian pulled out his phone. Welwick had followed up his text message with a PDF. Damian opened it and held it up so she could read it. “Official, legally submittable results. Armada and I have the same mother and the same father.”
“What’s this have to do with anything? I just want a lawyer. You’re supposed to get me out of here. They can’t hold me, you know. State law says they can’t hold me. I want my rights.”
“Just answer the question, Dalia.”
“Why should I? You’re just doing some slick gotcha thing. Are we on TV? You getting rich off this? Go on some talk show? Is this payback for me talking to that reporter guy?”
“The only cameras running are CCTV.”
Dalia crossed her arms, looking around the room with suspicion. “I bet that stuff is faked. You could put anything in a document and show it to me. They do that these days. That damned AI can darn well do anything.”
“You had them call me, Dalia. They placed the kids with me. The judge is going to ask the same question. Armada is pregnant. They’re going to find out who the father is.”
“Probably one of those messy heads at her school. Dad’s going to have her hide for being a hussy.”
“Armada is your daughter, Dalia. I was there when you were pregnant. Why does this test say that you’re my mother?”
Dalia’s cheeks darkened. “We’re not talking about this. I know you don’t want to be family. You’re stuck with them until I’m out. So when are you getting me lawyered up?”
“You don’t deserve them.” Those weren’t the words Damian had planned to say. They just came out and hung there in the air between them.
Dalia’s eyes flashed. She slapped the table. “You take those words out of your mouth. Those are my children.”
Damian stood, buttoning his suit. There was no more to be done here. He was going to lose his composure, lose himself. And a Kramer didn’t get to see that from him, not anymore. He was Damian Sathers, Richard Reevesworth’s right-hand man, a member of The Residency, co-owner of his own law agency. These weren’t games he played, not anymore. “If even half of what Armada has said is true, he’ll never leave prison once they arrest him. I suggest you turn evidence against Thaddeus.” He started for the door, Émeric joining him.
