Page 143 of Rah
“I don’t want him to be that monster’s child.”
“It doesn’t matter who his father is. It matters who is raising him. And I am going to raise him. You hear me?”
I had heard him, and it sounded good, but I was just so disappointed that I just continued to cry. I could feel him removing my hands from my face. He brought my chin up and told me, “Look at me.” I opened my eyes, and he kissed me soft and quick. “I got you. I’m his father. That’s still my nephew-son.”
He smiled and I giggled. Despite everything that I was feeling, Fabe made me laugh. Looking at the smile in his eyes, I was so sure that this man was telling me the truth. I knew that he would raise Junior. Even if we ever broke up, I knew that he was so much of a good man that he would raise my baby as his own, and ensure that he never wound up being like that monster that had helped make him.
SOLAE
Friday afternoon, I sat nervously at the defense table as the prosecution brought up their expert witnesses. Since my attorney had thought it best that I didn’t testify, the prosecution could not question me. However, they had brought up so many witnesses to speak against me:the DCFS case worker that had taken my kids, Rah’s parents, and medical experts that testified that the wounds could not have been made in self-defense. With each testimony, I cringed. I could feel my mother rub my back every now and then as she sat behind me on the other side of the partition. I had made the kids go to school, so they weren’t present in the courtroom. I couldn’t imagine having to face them if this all went south.
And once the prosecution rested, My knees felt weak when the judge’s voice rang out: “We’ll take a fifteen-minute recess while I consider the matter.”
When the judge disappeared into chambers, I went to my family and Priest, and they surrounded me. Priest slid behind me and pulled me against him until my cheek was pressed intohis chest. My mother and Kahlani’s hands rubbed slow circles into my back, trying to soothe what couldn’t be. My father told me that everything was going to be alright.
But I knew better. I had heard the prosecution’s witnesses. They painted me like some jealous, bitter woman that was violent and dangerous.
I dragged in a shaky breath and forced myself to look up. My eyes found my lawyer’s, and I whispered, “What do you think he’s going to decide?”
He didn’t sugarcoat it. “It’s up in the air. The State’s witnesses came across stronger than we wanted. Their testimony was… damaging.”
The air left my lungs. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kahlani’s lashes lower as tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but they slid down her cheeks anyway.
As I sat there trying to keep my stomach’s contents from rising, the people who loved me tried to pour strength into me. My mother told me that the judgehadto see the truth. My father squeezed my shoulder and swore he could feel in his bones that I was walking out of there free. Kahlani kept her hand over mine, whispering through her tears that I wasn’t going to prison.
Priest just held me.
But across the aisle, Rah’s family laughed and chatted like they were at a cookout, as if this trial was nothing but a game to them. Every smirk and chuckle felt like a deliberate taunt, like they wanted me to see that they didn’t care if I rotted.
I could see where Rah got it from. His family was arrogant, delusional, and loud. They stood there haughty while the same man I was on trial for stabbing was being held without bond for murdering his own friends. But of course, in their twisted world, Rah was still innocent. He could have committedmurder right in front of them, and they’d still swear he was a saint.
“All rise,” the bailiff suddenly called.
My blood froze. The recess was over. The judge was coming back in.
I pulled away from Priest, though his hand lingered on my arm, and walked back to the defense table on trembling legs. As I sank into my chair, nausea churned so violently that I pressed a hand to my stomach.
Everyone sat up straighter, waiting for the judge to speak.
My mouth went dry. When the judge adjusted his glasses and looked down at his notes, I could hear my heartbeat.
“This court has carefully considered the testimony presented, the exhibits admitted, and the closing arguments of both parties. The State charged the defendant with Attempted First-Degree Murder. However, the evidence, as it stands, fails to establish beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant intended to kill the complainant.”
I closed my eyes for a second, feeling my lungs collapsing and expanding at the same time.
“What the evidencedoesestablish is that the defendant caused serious bodily injury with a deadly weapon. The court cannot and will not ignore the recording submitted, wherein the complainant himself admitted to lying to law enforcement and manipulating the truth of this matter. That admission calls into question the credibility of the State’s key witness and supports the defense’s claim of longstanding provocation. Still, the stabbing itself occurred. Therefore, this court finds the defendant guilty of the lesser-included offense of Aggravated Battery with a Deadly Weapon.”
Gasps rippled through the gallery. I couldn’t even look toward Rah’s family. My eyes stayedfixed on the judge.
“Having no prior criminal record, and in consideration of the unique circumstances of this case, I sentence the defendant to a term of one year in the Illinois Department of Corrections.”
The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. A year. Not thirty. Not life. But, still, the thought of losing time with my kids was crippling.
The judge’s eyes softened just a bit as she spoke again. “Ms. Carter, given your compliance throughout these proceeding, this court will allow you one week to self-surrender to begin your sentence.”
My attorney touched my arm under the table, whispering, “That’s mercy, Solae. That’s the best we could have hoped for.”
But all I could do was sit there, numb, my hands trembling in my lap.
