Chapter 4: “Hello, Your Honor”
The guards studied me. I was pale, blood seeping where the IV had been tugged, my hand pressed to the swelling mark on my cheek. Then they turned to the older woman in fur, sobbing dramatically.
“Ma’am, step away from the bed,” the head guard ordered me, his hand hovering near his taser.
“She’s dangerous!” Mrs. Sterling cried. “Take her away! Save my grandchildren!”
I stayed where I was. I didn’t shout. I didn’t argue. I simply lifted a finger and pointed to the upper corner of the room.
“The security camera is active, right, Chief Mike?” I asked, my voice steady.
The head guard—a thickset man named Mike, whom I had met the day before to discuss safety procedures for high-profile patients—went still. He narrowed his eyes at me. The rush of the response had clouded him at first, but now he truly saw.
He recognized the face from last month’s RICO trial coverage. He saw the woman whose security clearance outranked even the hospital administrator’s.
Color drained from Mike’s face. He withdrew his hand from the taser and pulled off his cap.
“Judge Vance?” he said, his tone dropping to quiet respect.
Mrs. Sterling’s fake sobbing halted mid-breath. She blinked rapidly. “Judge? Who are you calling judge? That’s Elena. She’s unemployed. She’s a nobody.”
Mike paid her no mind. He stepped forward, gesturing for his team to lower their weapons. “Your Honor… are you alright? We received the panic signal. Is this woman harassing you?”
“No, I’m not okay, Mike,” I said, indicating Mrs. Sterling. “This woman just assaulted me. She struck me in the face. She attempted to kidnap my son, Leo. And at this moment she’s making false statements to law enforcement officers.”
Mike slowly turned toward Mrs. Sterling. His expression hardened, shifting from uncertain guard to commanding authority.
“Judge?” Mrs. Sterling faltered, glancing between us. “What is this? Why are they calling her that? She sits at home all day! Watches television! She doesn’t even work!”
“I’m referring to the woman you just assaulted,” Mike replied coolly. “The Honorable Elena Vance, U.S. District Judge for the Southern District. You just struck a federal official inside a secured facility.”
Mrs. Sterling’s jaw worked soundlessly. “No… that can’t be. Mark said… Mark said she was a consultant… a freelancer…”
“That’s called maintaining a low profile for security purposes, ma’am,” I said, dabbing at the blood on my lip. “My position involves sentencing drug traffickers and terrorists. I don’t advertise that to people I don’t trust. And clearly, I was right not to trust you.”
“But… but…” She retreated until her back met the wall. “You can’t be a judge! You don’t wear suits! You don’t earn money!”
“I work remotely during a high-risk pregnancy,” I answered evenly. “And my ‘consulting’ consists of reviewing appellate briefs that determine the fate of individuals far more intelligent and dangerous than you. As for the finances, Ms. Sterling, my salary covers the mortgage you believe Mark pays.”
I turned to Mike. “Place her in handcuffs. I intend to press charges for assault, attempted kidnapping, and child endangerment. Remove her from this room immediately.”
“With pleasure, Your Honor,” Mike said.
He stepped forward, pulling out plastic restraints.
“No! He can’t touch me! My son is a lawyer!” Mrs. Sterling screamed as Mike seized her wrists.
“Your son handles traffic cases in the suburbs,” I said calmly. “I preside over a federal courtroom. I believe I understand the law slightly better than he does.”
