Here's today's excerpt:
Amara Byrd sat in a courtroom council with the Juvenile Dependency Court Judge, Javier Montiz along with the lawyer for the Bankole family. The room was uncomfortably warm so she removed the jacket of her imitation silk suit and skirt and took a sip from the glass of water on the table where she sat. She wished she had on short sleeves but felt a long sleeved blouse and jacket gave a more professional appearance. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight, severe bun and her make-up conservative today.
The purpose of today’s meeting was to determine what constitutes undue influence by the Yoruban religion and which elements of their rituals are allowable due to religious freedom. It looked to be a long, hard fight and an equally long, hard day.
Ezra Goldwaithe pushed his wire-rimmed glasses higher on the bridge of his pointed nose. Amara could see the fingerprints on the lenses from where she sat to his left. He tapped his pen on his table and shuffled file folders in an effort to be overdramatic.
Amara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Even though he was twice her age, she wasn’t about to let this man intimidate her. He might have years of experience behind him but she had passion and a unique understanding of the situation at hand on her side.
She heard from colleagues how Goldwaithe could be misogynic at times. She actually hoped he would be condescending to her because it would weaken his position. Old men like him needed to get with the times. An outdated attitude could work against him, particularly with regards to a young family such as this. She also doubted he understood the subtleties of their African religion and counted on him playing the ‘religious freedom’ card.
Amara flashed him a Barbie doll smile.