Chapter 16
My father testified last.
I thought he would sound strong.
He did not.
He sounded broken.
That mattered more.
He spoke about my mother.
About marrying Lucinda too soon because he thought Harper needed safety and I needed a woman in the house.
He spoke about working late.
About missing signs.
About believing quiet meant peace.
Then the prosecutor showed him the school emails Lucinda had hidden.
He lowered his head.
“Did you know your daughter was being isolated from her teacher?” the prosecutor asked.
“No.”
“Did you know her practice schedule was being sabotaged?”
“No.”
“Did you know Mrs. De Luca threatened to send Amelia away?”
“No.”
“Do you believe you failed to protect Amelia?”
My father closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
I started crying then.
Not because he said it.
Because he said it in front of everyone.
Lucinda’s lawyer tried to use his guilt against him.
“Mr. De Luca, isn’t this prosecution an attempt to punish your wife for your own failures?”
My father looked at him.
“No. My failures are mine. Her cruelty is hers.”
The words landed hard.
Even Lucinda looked away.
The verdict came two days later.
Guilty on assault.
Guilty on harassment.
Guilty on violation of the protective order.
The other charges became part of the family court record.
Lucinda did not scream.
She stared at Harper.
Harper squeezed my hand so tightly it hurt.
The judge gave Lucinda probation with strict conditions, mandatory counseling, community service, and no contact with me or Harper unless Harper requested it through the court.
Lucinda’s face twisted.
Harper whispered, “I don’t request it.”
The divorce finalized soon after.
Harper stayed with us.
My father adopted her legally when she asked.
She chose it herself.
On the day the papers were signed, she cried harder than I did.
Then she wrote her new name in paint across a canvas.
Harper De Luca.
May you like
Not as a prize.
As a promise.
