"Given the hardships that Eden has faced, I would say it is perfectly logical for her to have spent most of her life mute." Mr. Franklin had asked the psychiatrist I had been seeing for months, Dr. Drena if my behavior was typical of a child in an abusive situation.

"Children that have been abused tend to have distinct signs that help us pinpoint what is happening. Eden first came to me as a little girl who appeared small and terrified. She does not talk, in fact, we've spent the better part of these few months sitting and staring at each other, doing puzzles and playing games. I am a doctor that specializes in young abuse victims and Eden had all of the signs. She shakes uncontrollably when left alone with me, any form of advancement toward her results in her jumping away, she does not look into my eyes, she curls in on herself. I believe wholeheartedly that Eden is a child of abuse."

It had been two hours since the start of day two and each new witness that stood up to speak had something to say that helped my case. The cross-examinations proved to be brutal. Mr. Ronald would find loopholes and call out anything that could be examined further. For example, my doctor spoke about how small I was and how behind on the growth charts I stood. Mr. Ronald would rear back and exclaim with bursts of power that sometimes kids were small no matter what care they received and he'd prove it with evidence, making it seem like I made the story up.

But for each step back, there were two steps forward. My doctor replied, "While that may be true, there is no denying that Eden obviously wasn't getting any form of nutrition throughout her childhood based on her size and the tests that she was given. Eden had evidence of broken bones that had she been properly cared for, would have been treated in the hospital."

During a well-deserved break, my lawyer assured me, "Eden, this man has no ground to stand on. He is grasping at words that are barely relevant and at this point is just trying to reduce the sentence Mrs. Morrison will receive. You are doing very well and being incredibly strong. Mrs. Winters will testify next and then Mrs. Morrison will take the stand. I believe that will be all the witnesses we need."

I worried about Mrs. Winters testifying. She didn't deserve to be put through this type of taxing job. I had spent the previous day after the trial resting in bed, my entire body fatigued and worn down. I felt guilty Mrs. Winters was going to be doing this just for me. She had been crying all morning because more evidence of my suffering and the words of the witnesses was proving to be too much for her. I didn't want things to get worse when Mr. Ronald tried to tear her down. The only thing worse than Mrs. Winters talking would be Noah having to be a witness, and I thanked Jesus he didn't need to.

"I'd like to call Angela Winters to the stand." Mr. Franklin sounded strong and ready to continue the trial when I felt the exact opposite. Mrs. Winters stood up and walked with more confidence than I could ever muster and stood in front of the man with a Bible. She was sworn to the truth and she took her seat next to the judge.

"Mrs. Winters, what is your relationship to Eden Morrison?" Mr. Franklin asked. Mrs. Winters smiled warmly at me.

"I am her foster parent and guardian, sir."

"Fucking bitch!" my birth mother's voice resonated throughout the courtroom, scaring me. "I hope she's a bigger burden to you than she was to me." Mr. Ronald attempted to quiet her.

"Mrs. Morrison, I suggest you stifle your comments before you ruin your case entirely," Judge Hausman's harsh voice shot back.

"Right, so, Mrs. Winters, when did you start suspecting Eden was being abused?" Mr. Franklin questioned.

"I have known Eden for almost five years and she has always been skittish. The first day she came to our house, I remember her little eyes growing large with fear when she realized she was late to get home. I understand children fear a slap to the bottom when they disobey, but Eden looked like she knew the world was coming to an end. She wore clothes that covered her body, even when I could tell she was warm. Those clothes were tattered, dirty, and always too big. She was a dirty little thing, always caked in grime," she grimaced and her eyes looked so sad.

"There were little things that made me question what was going on, but I couldn't prove it and I'd never want to ruin somebody's family. Eden feared her mother the time I went to meet Mrs. Morrison. I could see her little shoulders shaking like a leaf on a tree." Mrs. Winters shook her head as if stuck in a memory. "But once I met her mother, Eden came to my house every day and some nights when I'd take her home and her mother wasn't there, she'd come back and stay the night with us. The day that I was absolutely certain Eden was being abused was the day I called CPS." She had to pause.

She took a deep breath and released it shakily. "We hadn't seen Eden in almost two weeks. Her mother told us she had pneumonia and wouldn't be able to come to our house or to school. After a week and a half, we were distraught and worried about her. My husband and I went to her house because we knew she'd want her school work. We also brought soup."

Big sobs wracked her shoulders. "Shanie and her boyfriend told us Eden was highly contagious and that we couldn't see her. We gave them the soup and her school work and left. We didn't know when we'd be able to see her again."

I wished to hug her. She took time to cry into her tissued hand so that the jury could understand her. "My son, Isaiah, was with a friend that lived down the street. By some miracle, his friend found Eden hiding in a bush, shaking and incredibly beaten. My son brought her to our home and I almost dropped to the ground. Her head was bleeding, her skin battered, and she didn't seem to be able to understand us. We got her medical attention right away."

"How was Eden around your family when you first met her?"

Mrs. Winters finally cracked a small smile. "We knew Eden because of our youngest son, Noah. That boy came home from school pre-k year talking about a pretty, little girl and never stopped talking about her. Eden has never been shy around Noah, probably because even though she didn't talk, he knew everything she needed. However, that wasn't the case for the rest of us. She climbed into that car that day and I was shocked at how tiny and scared she was. Just by looking at her, I could see her shoulders shake at each new voice and she even jumped when one of my sons reached out to shake her hand. Each of my boys has never had a shy bone in their body, but even then, it took Eden almost three years to warm up to my family, even though she was over almost every day of the week."

"How is she now that she no longer lives with Mrs. Morrison?" Mr. Franklin asked. Mrs. Winters sighed.

"Mr. Franklin, I can honestly say without a doubt, the girl we know today is nowhere close to that girl I met almost five years ago. With the help she is now able to receive, with various doctors and friends, she has become so much more animated. Eden is gaining weight and has a healthy diet, and she's happy, sir."

"Thank you, that is all the questions I have for you." Mr. Franklin sat down beside me once more as Mr. Ronald stood up. I braced myself, scared to death.

"Mrs. Winters, how did you say you met Eden?"

"I said, she was walking on the side of the road when my son saw her and asked me to pick her up."

"Did you ever stop and think maybe my client didn't want Eden to be picked up by you, a complete stranger?"

"Yes, I did think that. But as a mother of four, it had hurt my heart to see someone so young- that appeared even younger than she was, mind you- walking by herself. As a friend of my son, I couldn't leave her there with a good conscience, so we picked her up and brought her to school."

"You say she came over to your house after school? She obviously didn't have permission."

"Yes, you're right. But again, this was a friend of my son and as a tradition, my family brings their friends home with them and we eat cookies. In hindsight, I should have contacted Eden's mother beforehand and that is why I met her soon after."

"What did you say to my client when you met her?"

"I introduced myself and explained how I had met Eden. Mrs. Morrison was drunk and a bit harsh. I asked her if I could bring Eden home every day while Mrs. Morrison was away so that Noah would have a playmate and Eden would have a ride to and from school and somebody to watch her."

"And how often did Eden come over?"

"Eden was over almost every day, whether it be because I picked her up or she came over herself. We knew that the days Eden came over herself, her mother was not at home. Eden sometimes went to church with us and had dinners on the weekends. Even on holidays, Eden would come over and she'd be a part of the celebration."

"Didn't you ever send Eden home for imposing like that? It had to be annoying having her there every day."

"Mr. Ronald, Eden was and is a very big part of our life. We loved her company and frankly, worried when she didn't come."

"If you knew the girl had a suspicious home life, why didn't you ever say anything to the authorities before? A little girl shouldn't try to run away from her home. You know, you could have been in trouble for not reporting it."

"Mr. Ronald, I never had strong proof up until the day I called CPS. If Eden had gone home that day because there wasn't sufficient proof against her mother, she could have been hurt even worse. I agonized over it on a daily basis. I was always looking for proof that it wasn't Eden's siblings. I was always asking her to talk to me. All of my family did. I've always had Eden's best interest in mind and had to wait until I knew she could be taken away from her mother."

"Eden had a large burn on her thigh. You said you brought soup to her house. How do we know that you didn't cause that burn with your soup? That you weren't the reason she was in so much pain?"

Mrs. Winters began to cry again, holding her head in her hands. "I don't know if it was my soup that caused the burn, but I know I only sent it to help. I love her like she is my own child. I would never hurt her on purpose."

Mr. Ronald looked stumped. He stood in front of Mrs. Winters, obviously searching for questions to ask. I wondered again why this man was a lawyer if he obviously didn't have a clue what he was doing.

"No more questions, your honor," Mr. Ronald sat back in his seat and his shoulders slumped, waiting for Mr. Franklin to call my mother to the stand.

But before Mr. Franklin could speak, my birth mother stood up out of her chair and cleared her throat. Her lawyer looked up at her with a defeated grimace.

"Seeing as this idiot did jack shit for me," she said, pointing at Mr. Ronald, "I'll go ahead and confess. I did beat the shit out of that little bitch on multiple occasions. I left her at home by herself hoping she'd fall down the stairs of her grimy basement bedroom and kill herself. I fed her leftovers and made her clean my house. I told my wonderful twins lies about her so they would believe she killed the father they once knew. I wanted them to hate her just as much as I did. I've always hoped for every filthy bone on that little cunts body to break and I hope she's living somewhere where they'll treat her the same way! I hate that kid. She stole my husband from me and I want her dead."

There were multiple gasps throughout the courtroom during her speech and I'm pretty sure all of the Winters men stood up wishing the woman would grow man parts so they could get their hands on her. Mr. Ronald was beating his head repeatedly on the table. All I could register was the painful grip that pain had on my heart and the tears flowing freely from my eyes. I shouldn't have been surprised at the lady's words. I was completely aware of how much she hated me, but it still hurt me worse than any hit ever could.

I heard Judge Hausman sending the jury back to reach a verdict and felt Mr. and Mrs. Winters grab my shoulders gently and pull me outside of the courtroom. Noah followed and the second his parents let go, I was in his arms, audibly bawling. I was vaguely aware of my foster parents putting their arms around us both. Noah sat us down on a bench along the wall and cradled me in his arms. He kissed my cheek, tried to talk to me, but I was oblivious to my surroundings.

We stayed like that until we were told the jury had reached a verdict. I was numb and followed behind my foster family blindly. Noah helped me into the courtroom but stopped at the gate leading to the tables. I stumbled forward and took my spot beside Mr. Franklin. The woman I called "mommy" for half of my life sat, waiting for the verdict that would determine her future, completely unaffected. The jury returned and I sat still, hoping for the best.

The second the room heard the word guilty of all charges, everyone went wild. The jury lady explained the reasoning and claimed Shanie Morrison would have life in prison because we lived in a state that claimed if the child sustained severe bodily harm, the abuser would receive a life sentence. My new family lifted me in their arms and each hugged me, but all I felt was exhaustion. My mother was taken away in chains. I wasn't happy like I should have been. I cried at the knowledge that my mother would never love me like she was supposed to.