The Prosecutor's Wife: A Mother's Fury

small body covered in bruises afte

a powerful prosecutor, wasn't just ignoring our son's pain-he wa

wyer drop our case. He planted a fake video online that painted my injured son as a viole

siding over my public humiliation, he thought he had me broken. He ha

inal verdict, I rose to my feet, my

said, looking hi

ace the defenda

pte

light across the polished marble floor. It was all so perfect

re. Kids will be kids," Calvin said,

sion of me he'd molded. "You'll just let

e. I had chosen us, over everything else.

nt agreement. His eyes, cold and s

he?" a hushed voice drifted from a nearby table. "E

for her then too, didn't he? After that little 'accident' wi

y Morales. Our son's bully's mother. And Calvin, takin

is career on justice, had a secret history

t on my forehead, dizzying me. I had to g

Calvin had been fighting against me, for her. Th

ill talking about his next big case, a self-importa

n our son was suffering? When I was suffering bec

to finally catch his attention. "What are you doing, Calvi

andling it. There are protocols. It's a

tecting her. The realization chilled me to th

trength. "It's not moving. You m

muscle twitched in his jaw. He hadn't exp

ure. "You're being emotional. Think about our image. Think abou

ulate me. The sheer gall of it stole

word, he walked to his study and slammed the heavy oak door

ah, a friend who worked in family law. "Hey," I said, try

aire... I wish I could. But.

n't 'can't', it was 'won'

I stated, not aske

er. "Fine," I said, a new resolve hardening my voice. "Then I'l