The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY novel Chapter 28

Chapter 5

When I walked back into the house, I didn’t know what to expect.

Part of me thought Mom would still be furious. That Blair would corner me the second we were alone.

But everything was different.

They’d put up a wall down the middle of our old shared bedroom. Two separate rooms now.

Mine had the same desk as Blair’s. Same comforter. Same lamp on the nightstand.

Everything matched perfectly.

Mom pulled me aside before I could even set my bag down.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked a little. “I wasn’t paying attention. I should’ve seen what was happening.

“From now on, you and Blair get the exact same things. No exceptions. And no more taking from each other.”

Dad made Blair come downstairs to apologize too.

She fought it. Cried so hard she could barely breathe, tried to bolt back upstairs.

But they didn’t let her go this time. Just stood there, arms crossed, until she finally spat out “I’m sorry” like it physically hurt her.

Then they released her.

For half a second, I almost believed things would actually get better.

But I couldn’t shake it.

I’d been her punching bag for years.

And now just because I’d fought back once, we were supposed to call it even?

Blair and I didn’t speak after that. Didn’t even look at each other.

But the house was still a nightmare.

Because she couldn’t help herself.

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The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY

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Chapter 5

Fried chicken for dinner with two drumsticks? She wanted Hoth.

New bag of chips in the pantry? She’d lose her mind until they bought another one just for her.

If they said no, she’d scream. Throw things. Drop to the floor and sob until they gave in.

And they always did.

They’d buy twice as much. “One for each of you,” they’d say. Totally fair.”

I said nothing. Just watched.

But it kept escalating.

Blair started demanding pricier stuff. And it wasn’t enough to get the same as me–she had to get more.

Ten oranges split between us? Five and five wasn’t acceptable. She needed six. I could have four.

She wouldn’t stop until she got her way. Ever.

She couldn’t hit me anymore–they’d actually enforced that boundary.

So she started hitting other kids.

Getting into fights at school, destroying property, racking up bills until my parents just paid her off to make it stop.

They tried grounding her. Taking her phone. Nothing worked.

She was too hardheaded. Dad smacked her with a wooden spoon once and she just laughed. Went right back to

chaos the next morning.

Then one evening, Mom slapped her across the face.

Blair slapped her back. Twice as hard.

Left a bruise that didn’t fade for days.

That’s when they realized she was stronger than both of the now. And she knew it.

So they turned to me instead.

“You’re older,” Dad said, voice low. “More mature. Can’t you just give her a little extra? She’s not hitting you anymore. Isn’t that progress?”

I looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

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The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY

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Chapter 5

“Why should I?

“I spent my whole childhood getting destroyed by her. Now you want me to hand over my stuff because she throws

tantrums?

“She screams and breaks things, so I’m supposed to just let her win?”

I didn’t budge. “Absolutely not.”

Mom’s face flushed red. Then something inside her snapped.

She grabbed the kitchen table and flipped it. Plates exploded against the floor. Glasses shattered everywhere.

“What do you want from me?!” Her voice broke on every word. “What will it take for you two to just be normal?!

“I’m killing myself at work every day and you can’t stop tearing this family apart!”

I sat perfectly still. Didn’t flinch when shards of ceramic skittered past my feet.

Just watched her collapse into sobs, makeup streaking down her face.

And felt absolutely nothing.

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GUILTY