I knew it was wrong. But I figured a few months in lockup was better than burying him.
The day of the hearing came and Caleb stood there in his leather jacket. He didn’t argue. He didn’t fight back. He just stared at the floor.
The judge read my statement out loud. Then he looked at my boy and said, “Son, do you have anything to say in your defense?”
Caleb didn’t speak. He just reached into his jacket pocket and slid a stack of folded papers across the bench.
The judge unfolded them. He read for a long time without saying anything.