Page 57 of After Everything
The opposing counsel stood. He wasyounger than I expected, maybe early thirties, and he looked uncomfortable.
"Ms. Peterson, you examined Mrs. Rodriguez six weeks after she left the marital home. Isn't it possible that some of these injuries occurred after she left? Perhaps in an altercation with someone else?"
"No. The bruising patterns indicate the injuries occurred over a span of weeks to months. Some were quite old; weeks old at the time of examination. They all occurred prior to her leaving."
"But you can't say with certainty that Mr. Rodriguez caused them, can you? You weren't there when the injuries occurred."
"I can say with medical certainty that the injuries are consistent with the timeline and mechanism Mrs. Rodriguez described. Combined with the police reports, hospital records, and documented threats, the evidence strongly supports her account."
He tried a few more questions, attempting to poke holes in my testimony. I answered each one calmly, factually, without defensiveness. This wasn't personal. This was evidence.
After ten minutes, he gave up. "No further questions."
I stepped down and returned to my seat. My heart was pounding, but I kept my face neutral.
David called one more witness: a police officer who'd responded to one of Maria's calls. Then he rested his case.
The opposing counsel didn't call any witnesses. Couldn't, really, since his client hadn't even shown up.
The judge reviewed her notes for what felt like an eternity.
Then she looked up.
"I've reviewed the evidence presented today. The medical documentation is compelling. The police reports are consistent. And Mrs. Rodriguez's testimony was credible." She paused. "I'm granting the permanent restraining order. Mr. Rodriguez is to have no contact with Mrs. Rodriguez or the minor children. Mrs. Rodriguez is awarded sole physical custody, with supervised visitation only if Mr. Rodriguez completes a batterer's intervention program and the court deems it appropriate."
Maria gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth.
"Furthermore," the judge continued, "I'm ordering that Mr. Rodriguez surrender any firearms within 24 hours. This order is effective immediately."
She brought down the gavel.
Maria started crying. Not quiet tears but full, shaking sobs of relief. David put a hand on her shoulder, saying something I couldn't hear from where I sat.
I stood and slipped out of the courtroom, giving them space for their moment.
I was halfwaydown the courthouse steps when I heard my name.
"Ms. Peterson. Emma."
I turned. David was jogging down the steps, slightly out of breath.
"I just wanted to say thank you," he said. "Your testimony… it made the difference. Maria's going to be safe now because of you."
"I just reported what I found. You're the one who put the case together."
"We both did." He paused, and for a moment we just stood there, two people who used to know each other, who'd worked together today to help someone in danger. "You were incredible up there. Calm, clear… strong. I knew you would be, but still. It was impressive."
I didn't know what to say to that. "Thank you" felt wrong. "You too" felt too personal.
"Maria wants to thank you herself," he said. "She's still inside, but?—"
"Tell her I'm glad I could help." I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. "I should go. I have patients this afternoon."
"Of course." He stepped back, creating space. "But Emma… if you're willing, I'd like to keep your clinic in mind for other cases. I have more DV clients, and they all need medical documentation. If you're open to it."
I considered. This was professional. This was helping people who needed it. This had nothing to do with David and me and our history.
"Have your clients call the clinic directly," I said. "We have a DV advocate on staff who handles intake. They'll get prioritized for appointments."
