𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑

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𝓘𝓼𝓪𝓫𝓮𝓵

Gᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴅʀᴇssᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴊᴜᴅɢᴇ ᴡᴀs sᴛʀᴇssғᴜʟ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I' ʀᴇғʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ. Aɴᴅ ᴍʏ only help were the girls. Useless to say they didn't know what they were doing. I had invited them over to my house since the two jerks weren't here again, just so I could get help on what I should wear.
"You should wear something sexy but elegant at the same time," Devi started, holding one of my tight skirts in her arm.
No, that's one of my skirts that make me look like a total whore and Ethan loves that.
"That's too short, she should wear a dress!" Eleanor chimed in, holding one of my skin tight dresses.
Also one that catches Ethan's attention whenever I wear it.
"You know, maybe some jeans and just a shirt is enough," Fabiola said after them.
"Fab is right, it's not like you're meeting a hot jock to hook up with anyways." Aneesa added lastly, and a groan slipped out of my mouth.
"You four are making me question my existence." I answered, all of them chuckling after me. But seriously, they actually were and it was sickening.
I was standing in front of my mirror with a pair of jeans and a black T-Shirt, tucked into my jeans. Maybe if I put a blazer over the plain top it would make it look more flattering, better. My hair was down on my shoulders as per usual and just a pair of white sneakers—also as per usual and I would never change it.
"Okay, I think this is it," I started after I was dressed, looking at the four girls as they sat on my bed and looked at me, waiting for me to continue my sentence, "You four, take care of Maria while I'm out, if the jackasses come back home sooner than expected and before me, take the window and leave immediatly. Take Maria with you."
"Update us on the news." Aneesa said with a soft smile, and I couldn't help but nod.
Before I left, I gave the girls one last goodbye and got out of my room, heading downstairs and taking the keys to my car, finally leaving the house and driving over to the court.
It was thirty minutes away from my house, so I had to get out at least forty five minutes before meeting with Kimberly. Her husband wasn't coming for once, since he had a case of his own.
I stood outside my car after I'd parked it, waiting for the soft voice of my new lawyer friend to be the next sound filling the space around me so that—
"Oh my God, I am so sorry the wait Isabel." Kimberly said as she approached me, the wind blowing on her thick hair.
Come on man, she looks so good in tight jeans. My big thighs could never do that.
"It's fine. I showed up earlier than expected anyways so, no pressure." I chuckled in return, pocketing my phone and trying to act like the anxiety wasn't eating me from the inside out. Wish I had a better cover because this woman is a fucking mind reader.
"You don't need to pretend you're not anxious, Isabel. It'll all be all right. We're going to talk to the judge, explain the situation and she'll find a solution. I've known Mrs. Alridge since I stepped foot in Harvard Law. She used the be our director there but she became a judge and I swear she is amazing." She assured me, her hands rubbing my arms in reassurance.
Kimberly was an amazing person herself, and she didn't deserve what she went through. Drug addict parents who chose drugs over their own daughter was tough, and it made my heart ache just thinking about it.
We walked inside the court and a woman in a skirt approached us, gesturing Kimberly to follow her, so I followed closely behind the two women and my eyes lingered on every single wall in my sight. Trophies lingering on every single one of them, whatever they were for.
The walls were a creamy beige, the structures at the top and bottom of the walls making all of it a little more modern since the building looked so old.
The woman finally led us to an office, opened the door and we walked inside, a woman with greying hair sitting behind her desk, eyes focused on her book. Kimberly cleared her throat, trying to get the woman to snap out of her reading.
She did, looking up at us with widened eyes before she put her book down and looked up at us. A wide smile settled on her wrinkled lips as she got up.
"Kimberly and Ms. Belmonte. Please sit down." The woman said, and we followed her order, sitting down on the both chairs in front of her desk.
Framed pictures of what I would assume was her with her baby. A pile of books on one side and files on the other side. There were so much things on her desk, yet it was organized.
"I called you last week, Mrs. Alridge, concerning my client, Ms. Isabella Belmonte." Kimberly said with a soft smile, taking a folder from her purse and sliding it into the old woman's hands before crossing her legs one over the other.
"Oh, right. Did you talk with the police yet?" Mrs. Alridge asked, opening the folder.
From where I was sitting, I could see there was a picture of me pinned to a document, probably about what I want to sue my parents for.
"Yes, we have. They told us we needed to talk to you and that's what we're here for." Kimberly said for me, that smile plastered on her lips.
"Of course. But can you please explain the situation? I didn't quite catch it on the phone." The old woman said before Kimberly snatched the folder from her hands and started reading.
"My client, Isabella Belmonte, born on the 14th of December 2006 in Vera Cruz, Mexico, would want to sue Mrs. Juana Belmonte and her husband, married on the 29th of February in Puerto Vallarta, Mr. Carlos Belmonte for child neglect, child abuse, and the custody of her younger and only sibling, Ms. Maria Belmonte," She started, her eyes going a little lower as she started to read again, "The victim claims having scars on different parts of her body caused by both her parents, a bruise on her skull caused by a harsh push of her father's hands, which made her fall to the floor and hit her head hard against the floor, numerous nurses and doctors and paramedics being suspicious of her situation at home after they would see the parents' reactions and her sibling's, constant fights at home that caused the younger child to self-harm," That part triggered me, making my left hand clutch my other wrist as the memory of seeing Maria's scars, swollen and red with dry blood over them making my eyelids burn with tears.
I looked down, a tear sliding down my face, "Can we not talk about that, please?" I interrupted, rubbing my wrist.
The sound of Kimberly letting out a sigh of pity made me feel like a victim, and I hated that feeling. Right now, I just wanted to be with Ethan again. To feel his arms wrap around me so I could cry into his chest.
I couldn't. Because he wasn't here with me. But I wish he was.
"Alright, we won't talk about that part, but otherwise..."
They continued talking, and I could feel their eyes on me from time to time, but I couldn't hear them. No words passed through my ears and my brain couldn't process any of them. I could barely process where I was right now. Sitting in front of a judge at seventeen years old, a lawyer by my side, while I was trying to sue my own asshole parents of child neglect and trying to get the custody of my little sister.
I felt so many things I couldn't describe.
My nails dug into the skin of my wrist, my shoulders tensed and I pursed my lips. Memories of that day springing back into my mind.
My lips were all over her scars as she sobbed for me to stop, Devi crying in the corner but covering her mouth as she watched, frozen.
"Isabel, please..." Maria sobbed, trying to pull her arm away as she writhed against me. But I couldn't stop. I wanted her to give me all the pain she felt.
All the anger. Everything.
Those two bastards were never going to see us again one day. They would hear from everyone around them that we got married to the most understanding and amazing husbands. Had kids. They took their first steps. Went to school for the first time. Growing up healthy.
They would never see us achieve that, but they would hear it.
Hear that we were doing just fine without their fucking presence.
"Promise that you won't do it again and I'll stop, Maria." I sobbed against her skin, resting my eyes against her skin, my tears soaking in her scars while I cried against her slit wrists.
"Isabel, I—"
"Promise me that you won't do it again, Maria." I cried against her skin again before I pulled away and looked at her, running my other hand through her curls.
"I won't do it again but please let me go." She gasped between loud and long sobs. I let her wrist go and wrapped my arms around her instead, pulling her against me in a tight hug.
I let her cry on me, her hands pressed against my collarbones.
Devi straightened herself and crawled over to us, wrapping her arms tight around both of us.
This type of feeling burnt me from the inside out. I hated it. All of it. I hated feeling like everyone pitied me. Because I didn't want anyone to pity me or my sister.
Everyone had their own problems, and I thought on a daily basis that there were people who suffered a lot more than what I was going through right now.
A lot, actually and—
"Sweetheart?" The voice of the old woman snapped me out of my trance, making my fingers wipe the tears rolling down my face.
"Yeah?" I asked, my voice similar to all the times I had cried like a sad, depressed little girl.
"It's successful. I'll send a card to your parents and they will be involved with justice. The police takes child neglect and child abuse cases really seriously. I can't promise they won't ask to take pictures of your scars. They'll be sent to me and kept in files at the police station, alright? Nothing too weird here." Mrs. Alridge said with a soft smile, eliciting a sigh of relief from me before I bit my lip.
"It's fine. As long as I get out of there as soon as possible." I sighed again, biting the inside of my cheek until the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.
"We will take care of that as fast as we can, but for now, take care. Your little sister is staying at Mrs. Vishwakumar's house, right?"
"Yes. The family knows about everything that happened at home and they agreed to keep Maria there for as long as I needed, even though it makes me feel like such a fucking burden." I chuckled sadly, feeling Kimberly's hand on my bad.
"It's normal, I swear. But that feeling will go away soon, Isabel. That I can promise you. We both can." Kimberly reassured me, looking back at the judge with a soft smile on her face, the woman returning the same soft smile.
They were both amazing. If Kimberly knew Mrs. Alridge since she put foot in Harvard Law, then I could trust her in her judgement. So I could trust both of them. And that reassured me.
"Thank you."

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