We barely got settled into our seats when the general magistrate slammed down her gavel. The hearing had concluded. It was like someone had slammed that gavel into my chest.
I felt so lost. What happened? We wouldn’t be able to speak after all? Graci-An and Molly had had no one in this oh-so-important hearing to speak on their behalf. . . .
Everyone rose, gathered their papers and briefcases, and began to leave the courtroom. Darryl and I stood, immobilized in front of our seats. . . .
We stared at the marching band of representatives exiting the courtroom. I couldn’t watch anymore. Their final walk reminded me of a funeral procession. . . .
Mara stood outside in the waiting area, and she appeared to be looking for someone. We walked up to her, and I asked her point-blank, “Mara, why didn’t you tell us the hearing was at this location?” . . . .
“After seeing all those e-mails you sent, I decided I was done with you and turned you over to my supervisor,” she said with a snarl. . . .
Darryl’s body language revealed his anger with his wide and staring eyes, hands on hips, and chest thrust out. He clenched his teeth, and I could tell that he was striving to keep his voice at a normal volume. “I want to know why you omitted our information and input and concerns about the reunification in the judicial review report. Why did you withhold that information?”
“I gave them your input,” Mara said, her feet together and body slightly turned away from us. . . .
Darryl continued. “Mara, it’s us. Remember? Two of the few people who actually know the real truth. We know exactly what you did and didn’t put in that joke of a report. You didn’t tell them what we thought about the reunification. They asked for our input and in our own words. You denied us the opportunity to be heard in that report, and then you denied us the opportunity to be heard in court today. When you robbed us of our voice, you silenced the voices of Graci-An and Molly.”