March 28th
The hearing room was nothing like I'd imagined.
I'd pictured something dramatic wood-paneled walls, imposing furniture, the kind of courtroom you see in movies. Instead, it was a plain, sterile conference room with fluorescent lights and uncomfortable plastic chairs. A long table at the front for the parole board. Rows of seats for observers. Everything designed to be functional rather than impressive.
We sat in the second row Kai, me, and Ms. Chen. Maya was at school, safe with Angela who'd agreed to pick her up and keep her distracted until we got home. We'd debated bringing her, but ultimately decided she didn't need to sit through a dissection of her mother's crimes and rehabilitation.
Margaret was led in wearing her prison uniform, wrists shackled. She looked small and vulnerable, but her spine was straight, her expression composed. When she saw us, her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back quickly.
