Chapter 11 - Enzo’s Case
My lawyer advised me to accept diversion.
I did.
Not happily.
That was irrelevant.
The security video was unambiguous.
I saved Callie.
Handed her to Mason.
Walked back upstairs.
Struck Simone.
She hit the banister.
The red line at her forehead required two adhesive strips at urgent care.
Her lip had a minor cut.
No concussion.
No fracture.
My slap caused real, though minor, injury.
Simone’s conduct toward Callie did not grant me authority to punish her.
I entered a six-month pretrial diversion program.
Anger-management evaluation.
Community service.
No direct contact with Simone outside lawful proceedings.
Successful completion eligible for dismissal.
My uncle Carlo was outraged.
“You let them charge you after she pushed your kid down stairs?”
“I hit her after Callie was safe.”
“So?”
“So that matters.”
“To who?”
“Me.”
Carlo stared as if I had announced vegetarianism.
Our family history treated retaliatory violence as character.
Men were praised for:
not letting things slide.
The phrase hides many crimes.
I told Callie about the legal process before she heard it elsewhere.
She sat cross-legged on the sofa.
“Are you going jail?”
“No.”
“Simone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because she pushed me.”
“Yes.”
“And you hit her.”
“Yes.”
“But yours different.”
“The reasons were different. Both actions can still be wrong.”
She frowned.
“If you didn't hit her, what do?”
“Keep you safe. Tell security to remove her. Call police.”
She considered.
“Can call Grandma?”
I smiled.
“Grandma is not law enforcement.”
“She acts like.”
Fair.
Then Callie asked:
“Are you sorry?”
“Yes.”
“For her?”
That took thought.
“I am sorry I chose to hit her.”
“Not same.”
“No.”
She accepted that.
Children often understand responsibility without demanding emotional purity.
May you like
I did not need to feel tenderness toward Simone to admit I should not have struck her.
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