Chapter 3 - My Own Hand
I gave my statement before I asked Marianne for hers.
That mattered.
The ballroom cameras had recorded everything clearly enough.
Sabine grabbing Melusine.
The dress tearing.
Melusine falling.
Me rushing over.
Putting Melusine behind me.
Then Marianne entering.
Then me taking the ring.
Then the slap.
My lawyer, Gabriel Stein, arrived before I finished.
He watched the footage once.
Paused after I moved Melusine behind me.
“Your daughter was safe here.”
“Yes.”
Then played the rest.
My slap.
Sabine hitting the cake table.
Gabriel paused.
“That was retaliation.”
“I know.”
“Do not call it defense of your child.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not tell relatives to pressure witnesses.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not call Sabine.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
Sabine suffered a bruised cheek and a superficial scratch near her collarbone where the broken chain caught skin.
No serious injury.
My anger had not produced catastrophe.
That did not make it lawful.
The prosecutor later offered me misdemeanor diversion.
No prior record.
One strike.
No continuing assault.
Anger-management assessment.
Community service.
Six months.
Successful completion would lead to dismissal.
I accepted.
One of my uncles called me weak for accepting.
“You defended your daughter.”
“No. I protected my daughter first.”
“And then?”
“Then I hit Sabine because I wanted to hurt her.”
Silence.
He hated that wording.
I needed it.
Violence becomes dangerously easy to justify when you mix a righteous reason with an unnecessary second act.
Melusine needed me between her and Sabine.
She did not need to watch me slap another person after she was already safe.
The counselor I later saw asked:
“What did the slap accomplish?”
I answered:
“It showed Sabine I was angry.”
“Did she already know?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“It made me feel powerful.”
“For how long?”
“One second.”
“What did it cost?”
I thought of Melusine watching.
Marianne watching.
The police report.
“More than that.”
He nodded.
May you like
That lesson would matter later.
Because everything I was about to learn would make me want to hurt people in ways a hand could never fix.
