Left for Garbage

for being so irresponsible, but had also called 911.
    Alice hadn’t even been charged with child neglect , despite it being obvious that she had been neglectful. Alice, instead of being grateful for her good luck, was still whining about how mean her dad had been to her. At the time, her story had made Denise grind her teeth with annoyance at the unfairness of her situation compared to that sad freak Alice, but no more.
    Suddenly she was able to breathe deeply again for the first time since having met with Salvatore earlier that day. The next morning she asked the fat guard to please let her place a call to her attorney, and when Salvatore showed up a few hours later, looking annoyed, she was able to smile at him.
    “Salvatore, I’m really sorry about yesterday. No, I’m sorry about all of it , all the years I’ve lied and kept quiet. You see, I was …” She let her voice falter and swiped at her eyes.
    Salvatore said urgently, “You were what, Denise? Come on, tell me. Please tell me.”
    Denise sniffled a little and then, keeping her eyes lowered, said brokenly, “I was trying to protect my father. My whole family, really. You see, Salvatore, there was a terrible accident with the pool …”

Penelope Bledsoe
    (Death Appeal Attorney)

    Jury selection in Denise’s case was painful for Denise to witness. I have done my best to comfort her throughout the process. She is a young woman, a young innocent woman, and one who is grieving terribly for her lost child. I understand how hard it is for her to hear one deluded potential juror after another say, ‘Yes, we have formed an opinion of her guilt - guilty, guilty.’
    I blame Salvatore Gutierrez, our team’s lead counsel, for not adequately preparing Denise for this ordeal. So far she has been forced to l isten to a collection of the judgmental, the insane or of fame seekers.
    The re is the sad parade of no-life losers that freely admit they have been glued to Charlotte Hope for the last three years, thus they ‘know’ Denise is guilty. It was ridiculous and it went from bad to worse. One of the potential jurors admitted that he had heard a parody song on the radio about Denise, and before a stunned Salvatore could shut him up, since, of course, the ghastly prosecutor made no effort to do so, he stood up, and facing the cameras, gleefully recited the first stanza.

    What you gonna do with that damn runt?
    That damn runt smells like a skunk.
    I’m a gonna take that runt
    and I’m gonna put her in my trunk,
    my trunk, my trunk,
    my lifeless little punk
    check it out.

    The judge slammed down his gavel and called out for the bailiffs, but the damage was done. Poor little Denise is such a child that she had started to tap her foot to the beat without even understanding the implications of the would-be rap star’s lyrics.
    Afterward, of course, she was devastated and sickened, but the jury pool didn’t get to see that. They saw only her tentative smile and tapping foot. It was damaging, no two ways about it.
    Salvatore, of course, wanted to attack her later that day back at the jail to remind her, as if she didn’t already know, that she was on trial for her life. But I talked him out of it, reminding him that it was only in the last few days that this innocent child has broken through her wall of denial about the grotesque things that both her father and brother have done to her, the long-term relentless sexual abuse she was subjected to.
    Salvatore was probably reluctant to leave her alone , as he has a bully’s nature, but eventually he backed down. He knows better than anyone that it is me, my visits with Denise, my love, my mothering of her, that have made her feel safe enough to speak the unspeakable. If it hadn’t been for Denise’s trust in me, she would have never been able to tell Salvatore about how Deeley truly died.
    I reiterated to him that since we now knew Deeley’s death was merely a horrible acci dent, and since it was her father who forced Denise not to call the police but to engineer a cover-up, we, the defense, are almost home free, and so is Denise. She is not to be bullied by him, as she has been bullied by her father, her brother, and her unnatural mother who failed to protect her from them and then tried to steal her child from her. Margaret Brown is a veritable Medusa in my mind, but sadly, in my chosen field, evil parents are nothing new. A child who is abused and grows up with no skills, least of all an ability to sense