Chapter 10 - Courtroom Number Four
The first protection order hearing was held in Courtroom Number Four.
Diego arrived with his attorney and his family seated behind him like a royal court.
I arrived with Amanda, Natalie, Officer Moore, and my medical records.
The judge was a woman named Elaine Porter. She had silver hair, sharp glasses, and no patience for theatrics.
Diego’s attorney tried to describe the plate as “an object thrown during mutual emotional distress.”
Judge Porter looked over her glasses.
“Did the object strike Mrs. Morales in the head?”
“Yes, Your Honor, but—”
“Did she require medical treatment?”
“Yes, but—”
“Was there a 911 call?”
“Yes.”
“Was there a recording?”
The attorney hesitated.
Amanda stood.
“Yes, Your Honor. We have submitted audio and transcript.”
The judge read silently.
The room felt airless.
Then she looked at Diego.
“Mr. Morales, did you tell your wife she would regret calling police?”
Diego shifted.
“I was emotional.”
“That was not my question.”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
Victoria whispered something behind him.
Judge Porter’s eyes moved to her.
“Ma’am, another sound from you and you will wait in the hallway.”
Victoria went still.
For once, a woman with authority did not bend to her performance.
Amanda presented the forged documents next. Not as the main issue, but as context showing ongoing coercive control.
The judge listened.
Then she granted the protection order.
Diego was ordered not to contact me, come near my condo, visit my workplace, or communicate through third parties.
Then Amanda requested that Victoria and Arturo be included in no-contact provisions due to the locksmith incident and employer harassment.
Keller objected.
Judge Porter asked one question.
“Did Mrs. Morales request your client’s mother come to her residence with movers?”
“No.”
“Did your client’s father email her employer?”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
The judge signed the expanded order.
Victoria’s face went red.
Arturo looked stunned.
Powerful people hate paperwork when it finally protects someone else.
As we left court, Diego called my name.
“Valerie.”
Officer Moore stepped forward.
“Careful.”
Diego’s mouth twisted.
He said nothing.
Outside, the Denver air felt cold and clean.
Natalie hugged me.
“You won.”
I watched the courthouse doors close behind Diego’s family.
“No,” I said. “I got protected.”
May you like
That was different from winning.
But for the first time in years, protection felt like enough to breathe.
