Page 38 of The Rose and the Hound (Ashes and Roses #2)

We filed into the courtroom, and she glanced over her shoulder.

I sat in the front row of the gallery, just behind where she would sit at counsel’s table.

I sensed she didn’t want to rely on me, but I saw her.

I would always see her. I saw the small deflation of her shoulders when she noticed me, and I was relieved that my presence made her feel even slightly steadier.

Paul and Sally stood a few rows behind me, next to her new friend, Gloria. The judge, a woman in her sixties with sharp eyes and a calm voice, gestured for them to proceed.

Rose’s attorney, Mara, guided her to the table.

“Just breathe,” I heard her murmur to Rose.

Mara was a true professional and a deeply compassionate woman.

She mostly worked on divorce cases, which was how we met through work, but when I told her Rose’s story, she agreed to act on her behalf.

Her rates were brutal, but Rose was worth it. What else would I spend my money on?

I leaned forward from the row behind, close enough for my voice to be low. My words were just for my Zahra: “I’m not here for the show, Rose. I’ve got your back.”

She didn’t turn around. If she did, I suspected she might lose the fragile composure she was clinging to.

Mara spoke confidently in her signature unflappable manner.

“Your Honor, we’re here today to request the sealing of Ms. Myrtle’s criminal record pursuant to the state’s nondisclosure statute.

My client successfully completed her sentence, has had no further legal trouble, and has remained in consistent psychiatric treatment.

We have two witnesses to speak on her behalf: Dr. Vincent Conti, the original complainant, and Dr. Sylvia Warren, her current psychiatrist.”

The judge nodded and motioned to the bailiff. “Call your first witness.”

Dr. Conti took the stand, his posture immaculate. Rose stiffened in her seat, and I fought the urge to touch her shoulder.

“Dr. Conti, can you tell the court your professional relationship to Ms. Myrtle?” Mara asked.

“I was her psychiatrist four years ago. During that time, she experienced a severe psychiatric episode. I was the victim of her stalking and an incident of physical assault.”

There was no venom in his voice, but the words still provoked a visible wince from Rose.

Mara nodded at Dr. Conti. “You agreed to testify today in support of her petition. Why?”

The doctor folded his hands. “Because while I do not excuse her actions, I believe they were the result of untreated illness. Since then, she has maintained full compliance with treatment, demonstrated stability, and—this is important—respected the no-contact order with me. I have reviewed reports from her current psychiatrist. I do not seek contact with her, but I believe her past should not bar her from gainful, appropriate employment. Her actions were never a danger to children, and I do not believe she poses a risk now.”

The judge tilted her head. “Dr. Conti, it’s unusual for a victim in a case like this to appear in support of sealing a record.”

The doctor nodded acknowledgment, adding “Your Honor, it is also unusual for a victim to be convinced by the ... persistent advocacy of a third party.”

Rose glanced sideways. I was stone-faced, but certain she caught the faintest lift of one shoulder.

As Dr. Conti was dismissed and rose from the witness chair, Rose’s gaze found his for the first time in years.

She didn’t smile. There was no place for that here, but she let her expression soften, the tight lines of defensiveness loosening into something that was part gratitude, part apology.

A silent acknowledgment of the harm she’d caused and the work she’d done to become someone different.

He held her gaze a moment longer than necessary, enough for her to believe he understood, then gave the smallest, almost imperceptible nod.

No warmth, no invitation, just a recognition that her message had been received, and that was all he was prepared to give.

Dr. Conti had been reluctant to engage with me, but he did acknowledge that he had spoken to Dr. Warren about Rose’s recent challenges and expressed disappointment that someone who had fought so strongly for her recovery had been set back in such a vindictive and damaging manner.

While he wouldn’t discuss Rose’s case, he surely knew about her upbringing.

The state’s attorney rose. “Dr. Conti, do you think your testimony today might encourage dangerous leniency in future cases?”

The psychiatrist pondered on the question thoughtfully. “I think it might encourage careful consideration. And I trust this court to tell the difference.”

When Dr. Warren took the stand, her voice was warm but clinical.

“I have been Rose’s doctor for several years. She has been medication-compliant, engaged in therapy, and has developed strong insight into her triggers. I believe she has achieved a level of stability that significantly reduces the likelihood of any recurrence.”

Mara paused, taking in Dr. Warren’s words. “In your professional opinion, would employment with children be safe and appropriate for her?”

Dr. Warren answered her question immediately and with confidence. “Yes, provided it is in a structured environment and she continues her treatment plan.”

The judge tapped her pen thoughtfully. “And you believe sealing her record would be in the public interest?”

“Yes. People recover. They deserve the chance to be defined by who they are now, not only by their worst moments. If I believed Rose posed any kind of risk to vulnerable people, I would not be sitting here.”

When cross-examined, Dr. Warren was asked if relapse was always possible. Her response was brief, but meaningful.

“Yes. And so is success.” After conducting herself with utter professionalism and full confidence, Dr. Warren gracefully stepped down from the stand. Mara nodded for Rose to take the stand. Her hands were steady now.

“Rose, why do you want your record sealed?”

“Because I want to work with children. I've been studying a certificate to be a librarian’s assistant, but my record disqualifies me from working with children. I made mistakes when I was unwell. I have worked every day since to be better. I know I can be trusted now.”

Her voice caught, but she kept her gaze level. “I’m not asking for anyone to forget what I did. Just ... to let me move forward. I can’t fix things or take my actions back, but I can try to contribute to the community. I can work forever to atone for my actions.”

Mara’s closing was short. “Your Honor, this case is about rehabilitation. My client has complied with every court order, engaged in treatment, and even the victim supports this petition. That is extraordinary. She is exactly the kind of person nondisclosure laws are meant to help. She never posed a threat to children, and even a brief reading of the original case transcript shows that with more competent representation, Rose’s charges could have been reduced to a misdemeanor harassment charge with deferred adjudication on the assault on the grounds of mental health.

My client has not so much as jaywalked since her treatment. ”

The judge leaned back. “It is unusual. It’s rare to see such consensus.” She glanced at Rose. “Ms. Myrtle, you are fortunate to have people speaking for you today. I hope you understand that.”

Rose nodded. “I do. And regardless of the outcome, I am grateful for the opportunity I have been given today.”

The judge looked down at her notes, then back up. “Petition granted. The order for nondisclosure will be entered, with conditions that will be communicated clearly to you, Ms. Myrtle.”

Mara had warned Rose that she’d be monitored very closely, and given Rose was committed to recovery, she was ready to agree to any kind of conditions to prove herself.

It was over in seconds. Rose exhaled, her shoulders sagging. She turned, unable to stop herself meeting my eyes. “Why did you do this for me?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see if I could make you smile.”

Dr. Conti was already gone. Dr. Warren gave Rose a brief handshake before leaving. “I know you won’t let us down, Rose,” she whispered pointedly.

Rose gathered her papers and walked out.

I fell into step beside her. The hallway seemed brighter now, though I knew it was just the fluorescent lights.

Out in the crowded hallway, in front of the vending machine, Rose leaned up and kissed my cheek.

Even in perhaps one of the most unromantic, unsexy environments ever, it was the best kiss of my life.

“Thank you, Hound,” she whispered before walking away. She didn’t look over her shoulder once.