My 14-year-old Son Beat His Stepmother Unconscious At Her Own Wedding. My Entire Family Disowned Him Until He Showed Us What Was On His Phone. Now She Is Trying To Frame Me For A Felony To Keep Us Quiet?

Healing and Justice

During the hearing, my son went back to the school with a safety plan the counselor helped us write. Kids whispered when he walked down the halls and some moved away from him at lunch. We practiced breathing exercises in the car before school, but some mornings he just sat there shaking. I’d have to call him in sick and we’d try again the next day.

The prosecutor called me into her office to show me what they’d found in Lauren’s sealed therapy records. Three other kids from her past had made reports that got buried by different therapists. She withdrew the plea deal right there and said they were adding charges for each prior victim.

Casey sat me down in her office with coffee and warned me what was coming. Lauren’s defense attorney would attack everything about my military service and how I raised my son. We started doing practice sessions where Casey grilled me like I was on the witness stand. She made me answer the same questions over and over until I could stay calm no matter what she asked.

Tommy’s foster family sent updates through CPS saying he was doing better each week. He needed therapy twice a week and still had nightmares, but they were committed to keeping him. They told the social worker they’d adopt him if Conrad’s rights got terminated completely.

My son started his community service at the domestic violence shelter downtown. He helped sort donations and clean the playroom where kids stayed while their moms met with counselors. The coordinator said working there seemed to help him understand he wasn’t alone in what happened. Other kids had been hurt too, and seeing them heal helped him believe he could heal.

I sat at my kitchen table after the boys went to bed, surrounded by stacks of papers, legal bills from Casey that ate up my savings, and therapy schedules for both boys. Court dates circled on the calendar and CPS meeting notes scattered everywhere. The case would drag on for months more with depositions and hearings and evaluations.

But tonight my son was sleeping in his bed down the hall instead of juvenile detention. Tommy was safe with people who protected him instead of the house where nobody believed him. That had to be enough for now because it was all we had while we waited for the system to work.