Chapter 11 - My Slap Became a Separate Case
The staircase video did not make me immune.
After handing Daphne to Nolan, I climbed back up and slapped Miranda.
She was no longer touching Daphne.
She had not attacked me.
No immediate defense.
I hit her because I was furious.
Again, old instincts wanted to call it:
a message.
No.
It was assaultive conduct.
Miranda filed a complaint.
The prosecutor reviewed video.
My lawyer told me the likely outcome before charging decision finalized.
“One misdemeanor. Diversion is possible.”
“Take it.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You haven’t seen terms.”
“I’m not contesting obvious video unless there’s a legal reason.”
Terms eventually included:
Anger-management assessment.
Community service.
No unlawful contact with Miranda.
Six-month diversion period.
Dismissal upon successful completion if no violations.
I accepted.
An older Morello cousin told me:
“You’re letting her make you look weak.”
I answered:
“I hit a woman after the threat ended.”
“She kicked your daughter down stairs.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So her crime is hers.”
My slap was mine.
That sentence became useful in every family conversation afterward.
Responsibility does not transfer because somebody else behaved worse first.
Daphne learned about my case from me.
Not gossip.
I said:
“I hit Miranda.”
“You were saving me.”
“I saved you before that.”
She thought.
Then:
“You were mad.”
“Yes.”
“Really mad.”
“Yes.”
“Still shouldn't?”
“Still shouldn't.”
She looked skeptical.
Seven-year-olds understand proportional revenge instinctively.
May you like
They need adults to teach why civilization complicates it.
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