Chapter 12 - My own assault
Helena filed a police report about me.
She should have.
I had grabbed her by the hair and forced her face into filthy water.
I told police exactly that.
No:
I was rescuing Leo the whole time.
Partly, I was.
I needed to move Helena away.
But after she was off balance, the bucket was anger.
Humiliation.
I knew it.
The garage footage knew it too.
Miriam watched the video.
Then looked at me.
“You’re fortunate you released her quickly.”
“I know.”
“You could have injured her neck.”
“I know.”
“You could have caused aspiration.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know like that makes it better.”
Fair.
Prosecutors separated:
My initial physical intervention to get Helena away from Leo.
The additional head shove into water.
The second was unnecessary.
I eventually accepted a misdemeanor assault disposition.
Not prison.
Not exoneration.
Twelve-month conditional discharge.
Sixty hours community service.
Anger-management assessment and eight sessions.
No new offense.
Medical reimbursement for Helena’s urgent-care evaluation.
No broken bones.
No head injury.
Mild scalp tenderness.
I did not call myself punished for protecting my son.
I was punished for the part after protection.
That distinction mattered.
May you like
Especially because I expected everyone else to accept distinctions too.
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