Part 28 (1/2)
”Yeah,” Devon says. ”They kind of were.”
”Yeah.” Dom rests her chin on her hand, doodles on the tabletop with a fingertip. ”Well, I don't think I'm going to call your mom to testify today, after all.” She pauses. ”Not after what I just saw in here. I can't have her up there crying and saying unpredictable things. This hearing is too important. We can't risk it, Devon. I'm sorry.”
Devon shrugs, studies the tabletop.
What could I have done differently? her mom had asked.
Could her mom have done something differently? Was she capable of being a different sort of person? A sort of person who Devon could talk to about important things, about scary things? Grown-up things, even? A person who Devon could depend upon?
But, more important, what about her? What about Devon? Could she have done something-anything-differently?
”You do understand,” Dom is saying. ”Don't you?”
Knowing about herself then what she knows now, would she have done anything differently?
”Devon?”
Would she?
”I hope so,” Devon says. She looks up, then. Whispers, ”Yes.”
chapter twenty-two.
”The defense calls Ms. Henrietta Apodaca.”
Devon watches as Henrietta marches up to the front and raises her right hand, just like all the other witnesses have done today. She nods her head solemnly as she answers Judge Saynisch's query: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you G.o.d?
”Please state your name for the record,” Dom says when Henrietta is seated on the witness stand.
”Henrietta Fernanda Apodaca.”
”And, Ms. Apodaca, please state your current occupation.”
Devon listens as Henrietta tells the courtroom in her crusty lilting tone all about her role as a detention officer at the Remann Hall Juvenile Detention Facility. That she's been working on the security side there for twelve years. That she's been with Unit D, currently the only female unit out of a total of eight, for just over a year. That she mainly works the night s.h.i.+ft, but this past week, she's also worked days. ”I sometimes do doubles-okay?-to help pay the bills,” she says.
”Devon has been a resident at Remann Hall for the past eight days, Ms. Apodaca,” Dom says. ”During this relatively short time, have you had the opportunity to observe her?”
”Yes, I have. Okay?”
”And what has been your impression of her? Her behavior, her interaction with the other residents?”
”Well, first I want to say”-Henrietta s.h.i.+fts in her seat so that she can maintain direct eye contact with the judge-”that I was asked by that defense attorney over there”-she jerks her head in Dom's direction-”to write a letter for this hearing, but I refused. And I'll tell you why, okay? I insisted on coming in here to speak to you in person, okay? I requested it. So, know that this is a voluntary thing with me, okay?”
Henrietta requested to come to court and speak? Rather than write a letter? Why?
Henrietta turns back to Dom. ”The second thing I want to say is that Devon is a girl who I think should stay in the juvenile system. I've been around here a long time, and I've seen a lot of different kids come in and out of this place, okay? Some in more than out.”
Devon thinks of Karma then. She's one of those ”in more than out” kids. And not just at Remann Hall, but other places, too. Private inpatient facilities, counseling centers, rich kid rehab ranches, boot camps. Jenevra had cornered Devon on Sat.u.r.day night when Devon was crossing the common area, coming back from her shower, and told her everything she knew. That Karma's dad got sick of spending so much money and nothing ever working. So, one day, he just decided to cut Karma off financially, and Karma's been either on the street or in detention since. Devon wonders if Karma's dad will just give up on her altogether someday. Devon hopes that he won't. Her thoughts s.h.i.+ft then to the other people who Dom asked to appear today. Soon Devon must watch them take the witness stand. Must look into their faces and hear their voices. Devon takes a breath, lets it out slowly. She hopes that they haven't given up on her, either.
”Thank you, Ms. Apodaca,” Dom says. ”But could you speak specifically about Devon's behavior since she's arrived at Remann Hall?”
”Well, she has only been here just over a week, okay? And already the staff decided to b.u.mp her up to Honor status. In fact, they decided that this morning, okay? In all my time working here, I can't remember any resident who has been able to do that, okay?”
As she speaks, Devon notices that Henrietta does her head-bob nod around the courtroom, as if she's sitting there inspecting the cleanliness of everyone present, and whether they have properly aligned their pencils beside their pads of paper.
”Devon is a special sort of young lady, okay?” Henrietta says.
Someone actually thinks that she's special? Even after everything that's happened? Henrietta is a staff here. She must know, at least some of the details. And still?
Devon feels her eyes burning. Somewhere inside herself, maybe it's inside her heart, she feels a tiny drop of hope take hold.
”Has Devon had any visitors since arriving at Remann Hall?” Dom asks.
”None other than you, her attorney.”
”No family members, Ms. Apodaca?”
”No. None.”
Family members. No, it's family member, singular. Devon's one and only, her mom.
Devon thinks about what her mom had just told her in the conference room, that when she took off, she'd gone back to Spokane to see her own mother, Devon's grandmother. Devon wonders how that scene went down. Did she just walk up the steps to the house where she grew up and knock? Or did she call first? Agree to meet at a neutral place, like the nearest IHOP? When they first saw each other, was the conversation stilted? Or did they just hug each other and cry?
And that visit to Spokane and whatever happened there, is that what had prompted her mom to try to see IT? The . . . baby? Did she feel guilty, was that what inspired her? Because her own mother in Spokane never got the chance to see her baby? Never got to see Devon?
Then in Devon's mind, the dots connect.
You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me!
Her mom had screamed that fact in the conference room. Dom had entered then, disrupting the trajectory, and Devon hadn't had the chance to fully digest it.
Her mom had meant to lift some of Devon's culpability, that's why she'd said it.
You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me!
Devon wouldn't be here. In a rush, she grasps the significance.
Her mom intended to take some of the blame, but what she'd done instead was add to it.
Not ”here” as in the courtroom, but here. Period.
Devon covers her mouth with her hand. Bites down. If she doesn't, she might scream.
Dom is still up there, questioning Henrietta. They're discussing the self-paced program the staff would like to implement for Devon, so she won't fall behind in her academics.
Dom wouldn't be happy, seeing Devon like this. She'd expect her to stay composed.