Chapter 103: Family Court Part 4

Jaxon

Nathaniel didn’t bother glancing at the neat stack of notes on the podium in front of him. He already knew, without hesitation, exactly who he wanted to call to the stand first.

His voice was steady, almost gentle. “Your Honor, the defense calls Miss Jacqueline Carter.”

For a moment, my heart stopped, then hammered back to life with a jolt.

Miss Jackie.

From her seat in the gallery, she met my gaze. I saw, for the first time, the unease shadowing her usually steady eyes. Gone was the flannel shirt and faded jeans she wore every day around the apartments. Instead, she wore a lavender blouse, simple and pressed, tucked into a pair of black slacks. Her silver hair was swept up in a tidy bun, though a few wispy strands had slipped free, framing her face with a soft, familiar halo.

She managed a small smile, just the barest curve of her lips, but it was a smile I recognized. The same one she’d worn that night when she found Xavier and me curled up on the cold hallway floor outside our apartment, shivering because Mom had locked us out. That smile meant comfort. That smile meant everything would be okay.

The bailiff stepped forward and gently ushered her toward the witness stand. Miss Jackie walked with quiet dignity, each step measured and careful. She placed her right hand on the Bible, her voice unwavering as she spoke the oath.

“I swear.”

She eased herself into the witness chair, folding her hands neatly in her lap as Nathaniel approached. He carried a legal pad at his side, but he looked at her, not his notes.

“Good morning, Miss Carter.”

She nodded once, her voice warm but a touch nervous. “Morning.”

“Would you please state your full name for the record?”

“Jacqueline Marie Carter.”

“And where do you live, Miss Carter?”

“Harbor View Apartments,” she replied. She sounded proud of it, as if the name itself was a badge of honor.

Nathaniel nodded in encouragement. “How long have you lived there?”

Miss Jackie tilted her head, thinking. “Oh… a little over twenty-two years now.”

“And during that time,” Nathaniel continued, his tone softening, “did you become acquainted with the Reed family?”

She smiled again, a little wistful. “I did.”

“How?”

“They lived two doors down from me,” Miss Jackie answered simply.

“And approximately how old was Jaxon when you first met him?”

She looked my way, her eyes filled with memory. “I think… thirteen. Maybe a little younger.”

“And Xavier?”

She chuckled, the sound gentle. “Just a little guy. Maybe one or two.”

Nathaniel let the words hang in the air, letting the courtroom settle into silence.

“Miss Carter, did you have regular contact with the Reed children?” he asked.

Miss Jackie laughed, a single, genuine note. “Regular? I saw those boys almost every day.”

Suddenly, Mr. Billings jumped to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor.”

Judge Warren peered up, her expression patient. “Basis?”

“Relevance,” Mr. Billings said, a hint of exasperation in his tone.

Nathaniel’s voice was calm, unwavering. “It establishes the witness’s opportunity to observe the household over an extended period.”

Judge Warren considered this, then turned back to Mr. Billings. “Overruled. I would very much like to understand the nature of Miss Carter’s observations.”

Mr. Billings, defeated for now, sank back into his chair.

Nathaniel gave the judge a grateful nod before turning to Miss Jackie. “You mentioned seeing the boys nearly every day.”

“I did.”

“Did you also regularly observe Ms. Elizabeth Reed?”

Miss Jackie’s smile faded instantly. Her eyes hardened, mouth set in a thin line. “Unfortunately.”

A hush fell over the courtroom.

Nathaniel waited, giving her time. “What kinds of things did you observe?”

Miss Jackie drew a slow, steadying breath. Her voice was quiet, but there was an iron thread running through it.

“I observed a little boy raising another little boy.”

A chill ran down my spine. Every muscle tensed, bracing for what came next.

She wasn’t looking at me. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on Judge Warren, as though speaking directly to her.

“I’d come home from work around five every evening,” she continued. “I’d see Jaxon carrying groceries up the stairs. Sometimes he’d have Xavier on his hip while trying to unlock their apartment door. I’d watch him cook dinner through the kitchen window. I’d see him helping Xavier with his bath. I’d hear him reading bedtime stories through the open window on summer nights.”

She paused, voice trembling on the edge of anger and heartbreak.

“I almost never saw Beth doing any of those things.”

Mr. Billings shot to his feet again. “Objection.”

Judge Warren didn’t even glance up from her notes. “On what grounds?”

“Speculation,” he said, but the word sounded weak.

Miss Jackie spoke before Nathaniel could. “It isn’t speculation. I lived two doors away.”

Judge Warren nodded, pen poised. “The witness is testifying to what she personally observed. Overruled.”

Nathaniel nodded gently to Miss Jackie, encouraging her to continue.

“Did there come a point when your concern for the children increased?” he asked softly.

Miss Jackie let out a sound, half a laugh, half a sigh, weighed down by years of helplessness. “There wasn’t a point. It just… kept getting worse.”

Nathaniel’s voice was gentle, guiding. “Can you explain that for the Court?”

Miss Jackie’s hands twisted together in her lap. “I could hear Beth,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The room seemed to shrink around her words.

“I could hear her screaming. I could hear bottles breaking. I could hear furniture hitting the walls.” She swallowed hard. “And sometimes…” Her voice cracked, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. “…I’d hear Xavier crying.”

I closed my eyes, the memory of those nights rising like a tide I couldn’t hold back.

God.

Nathaniel waited, his posture relaxed, giving Miss Jackie the space she needed.

Finally, he spoke, voice gentle. “What would happen then, Miss Carter?”

Her hands tightened in her lap. “I’d knock,” she said quietly.

“And what happened when you knocked?”

She drew in a shallow breath, eyes remembering decades of long, heavy nights. “Sometimes Beth ignored me. Sometimes she’d scream at me from the other side of the door... curses, threats, whatever she thought would send me away.” Her eyes found mine, shining with something that felt like regret and fierce love all at once. “And sometimes… Jaxon would answer.”

A sharp ache burned behind my eyes. I pressed my lips together and looked down, willing the tears not to fall.

Nathaniel’s voice softened, coaxing. “What would you see?”

Miss Jackie’s next words were steady, but I could hear the pain threading through them. “I’d see a thirteen-year-old boy apologizing. He’d apologize for the noise. He’d apologize if Beth broke one of my flower pots. He’d apologize if the police came. He apologized for things children should never have to apologize for.”

I stared at the table, unable to lift my gaze, shame and sorrow warring inside me.

Nathaniel stepped a little closer, careful not to rush her. “Did you ever observe Ms. Reed under the influence of drugs or alcohol?”

Miss Jackie didn’t hesitate. “Frequently.”

Mr. Billings jumped up, his chair scraping loudly. “Objection!”

Judge Warren peered over the rim of her glasses, her calm presence cutting through the tension. “State your grounds.”

Mr. Billings straightened his tie. “Prejudicial, Your Honor.”

Nathaniel finally turned to face opposing counsel, his voice measured. “It goes directly to the mother’s ability to safely parent the minor child.”

Mr. Billings shook his head, frustration mounting. “There has been no foundation establishing substance abuse.”

Judge Warren leaned back in her chair, considering. “There may not have been,” she conceded. She turned to Miss Jackie. “But I’d like to know whether this witness personally observed any such behavior.” Her attention shifted back to Mr. Billings. “If she did, I find it highly relevant. Objection overruled.”

Mr. Billings dropped back into his seat, harder than he needed to.

Nathaniel nodded respectfully and turned his attention back to Miss Jackie. “Miss Carter?”

She looked straight ahead, voice unwavering. “I watched Beth stumble up the stairs more times than I can count. I watched her pass out in the parking lot. I watched strangers walk her to her apartment because she couldn’t stand on her own. I smelled alcohol on her nearly every weekend.”

She paused, the weight of her memories pressing on the room. “And there were days…” Her voice faltered, then strengthened. “…where she wasn’t drunk.” She looked directly at Judge Warren, her gaze unwavering. “She was high.”

The courtroom fell into a heavy, stunned silence.

“I know the difference,” Miss Jackie said, her voice barely above a whisper, but strong enough to fill the entire space.

Judge Warren didn’t interrupt. She sat quietly, listening.

Nathaniel’s next question came softly, no judgment in his tone, only genuine curiosity. “How do you know the difference, Miss Carter?”

Miss Jackie’s face grew even more solemn. “My brother died from addiction,” she said. The words hung in the air, raw and honest. “I spent fifteen years trying to save him.” She swallowed, composing herself, the pain still fresh after all these years. “I know what alcohol looks like. I know what opioids look like. I know what meth looks like. I know what someone nodding off from pills looks like.”

She turned her gaze, unflinching, toward Beth. “And I watched those boys live with it.”