two birds, one stone

The challenge and art behind the story:

***

Tahlia was the picture of innocence, dressed in her darkest fineries, nary a hair out of place, or a tear in her eye. Though only a Hansford by marriage, it had been greatly instilled by both Gregory and mother-in-law alike that nothing, not even grief, nor accusation, should excuse a poorly dressed or hysterical Hansford woman.

She much rather be at home, sobbing until she turned her husband's side of the bed into a small puddle.

Instead, she sat on the defendant's side of a courtroom, accused of his murder. The prosecutors attempted to paint her as either a greedy or abused woman; people kept talking about inheritances and bruises decorating her skin. Every word was a stab at Tahlia's already broken heart, and she was quickly losing hope. Death in prison was looking more and more inevitable, much like the sun rising with every dawn.

Tahlia's only saving grace now was the advocate now addressing the judge and jury, Paul Rittenhouse.

He was known for capturing the hearts and minds of all in the courtroom; "part of being a good lawyer is being able to tell a good story with the facts in hand," he liked to say. In his spare time, Rittenhouse served as an advocate for the domestically abused, especially women and children. For them, he was their knight in shining armor, riding in to save them from what seemed like a high tower their abusers locked them in.

Well, that's how most of them felt.

***

Things were going according to plan.

Now one more thing should be mentioned about Rittenhouse. He was always calm, eerily so in certain situations. This didn't mean he wasn't cold or impassionate, in fact, he was a gentle and empathetic man. But never did he allow his passion for a case or cause to lead to him dramatics.

Perhaps I should change never to usually, because suddenly, Rittenhouse broke down in tears and choked out, "I can't do this anymore." Everyone, confused and concerned, started to whisper amongst themselves, progressively getting louder.

The presiding judge demanded silence. "Counselor, do you need a moment to compose yourself?"

Rittenhouse grabbed a handkerchief and wiped away at his face.

"Your Honor, I must confess."

"Confess to what, Counselor?"

"I murdered Gregory Hansford."

The room erupted into chaos, enough that the judge threatened to throw out all those unnecessary to the trial out. They settled, and the judge asked for Rittenhouse to continue.

Rittenhouse then tearfully told a grand tale of a foolish man, who placed work above his wife and young child. In time, he would abandon them under the guise of securing the child's future, and after many years, a recent health crisis set him back on a path toward the family he left behind.

"Your Honor, I am that foolish man, and," with both hands, he motions toward Tahlia, "she the young child I left behind. I only recently connected with Tahlia days before Hansford's death." Rittenhouse spat out Tahlia's husband's name as if it was rancid milk.

Rittenhouse started to shake. "He slapped my baby girl when he thought they were alone! When he left, I confronted Tahlia, and she admitted how Hansford beat her time and time again!"

"Counselor, calm yourself!"

"I had never experienced rage like that before, and even after I calmed myself in the moment, it stayed, boiling under the surface, until I exploded." Rittenhouse was slowly unwavering, transforming to the protective and murderous Hyde. "The next time I saw him, I took him to the barn and grabbed the shovel. I kept slamming down on his head---"

The judge slammed the gavel down, demanding silence. "Officers, arrest this man!"

"Please! I was protecting my daughter!"

Everyone was so focused on the downfall of Rittenhouse that they missed the brief smile on Tahlia's face as she moved aside, watching them take her father away.

***

Two days later

In a den of wolves, sat the masquerading lamb. Tahlia, still dressed as a woman in mourning, ignored the hungry looks of the men surrounding her and Rittenhouse.

Rittenhouse reached for his daughter's hands, which she quickly yanked away from his grasp. "It is so good to see you, daughter."

"I only came to tell you I wish to never hear from you again."

"But why?"

Leaning in close with tear streaks down her face, Tahlia fiercely whispered, "you left me! Did you really think I was going to be happy to see again?" A disgusted chuckle slipped out before she continued, "when you came groveling, I knew you would do anything to get back in my good graces. I wanted you to see Gregory slap me, make you angry enough to go after him, to kill him."

Rittenhouse gaped at her confession, before he stuttered the start of a pitiful threat. "I-I-I'll tell..."

"And no one will believe you. I only told you that my husband hurt me, I never begged you to kill him. Goodbye, Father." Her grieving widow mask snapped back on, and she walked away the darkest shadow in the room.

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned/Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." - William Congreve's The Mourning Bride