My Husband Has No Hands

Yvonne replied almost immediately: "Challenge accepted! See you in court! Don't come crying to me then!"

On the day of the trial, the area outside the court was filled with reporters and fans who were holding up signs supporting Yvonne.

Yvonne, wearing a plain white dress, walked into the courtroom supported by her lawyer and her mother.

When she saw me sitting alone in the defendant's family seat, a flicker of smug mockery crossed her eyes.

The trial began.

Yvonne's lawyer was the first to strike, his words sharp:

"Your Honor, the defendant Chris Gomez took advantage of the enclosed space in the elevator to forcibly commit sexual assault against my client. His actions were despicable, causing serious physical and mental harm to my client!"

Then, Yvonne took the stand as a witness.

She described, once again, in even greater detail than before, the non-existent crime.

"That day, I entered the elevator, and the defendant followed me in. Because there were only two of us in the elevator, I was very scared. He suddenly hugged me from behind. His hands... were very strong. They felt like iron clamps."

Yvonne closed her eyes. As if recalling something terrifying, her body trembled uncontrollably.

"There was something hard on his left hand's index finger. It felt like a ring. It hurt my neck so much. His right hand... his right hand tore at my collar. The rough sensation moved around my collarbone... I could even feel the sting from the dirt in his fingernails scratching my skin!"

Gasps erupted throughout the courtroom.

The crowd was outraged. Many people pointed at me, and faint curses were audible.

"I'm disgusted!"

"If she can remember in such detail, it must be true!"

"Where is Chris Gomez? Is he too ashamed to show his face?"

Yvonne wiped away her tears and looked at the judge. "Your Honor, I beg you to severely punish the culprit! He even threatened me. He said if I dared to call the police, he would strangle me to death!"

The judge frowned and turned to the defendant's table. "Why is the defendant not present?"

I slowly stood up, straightened my clothes, and looked expressionlessly at Yvonne.

At that moment, the air in the courtroom seemed to freeze.

"Your Honor, it's not that my husband is unwilling to attend, but because of his physical condition, he has difficulties moving around."

Yvonne's lawyer scoffed. "Difficulties moving around? Or on the run to avoid punishment?! He can attend even if he's in a wheelchair, right?"

I ignored his mockery. My eyes were locked on Yvonne, and my voice was clear and firm.

"Miss Shaw, you testified under oath earlier that you could clearly feel the ring on the defendant's left hand, the rough fingertips of his right hand, and even the dirt in his fingernails, correct?"

Yvonne was slightly unnerved by my gaze, but still said stubbornly, "Yes! I'll remember those hands until the day I die!"

"Good."

I nodded and turned to face the courtroom door. I suddenly raised my voice. It trembled a little, but was still very loud:

"Since Miss Shaw remembers so clearly, let’s all open our eyes and take a good hard look at the hands she claimed choked her! Open the door! Bring in the defendant, Chris Gomez!"

As a loud creaking sound filled the courtroom, the massive wooden doors slowly opened to both sides.

All the cameras, all the eyes, all the angry, contemptuous, curious gazes, focused on the door.

Against the light, a custom-made electric wheelchair slowly rolled in.

A man was sitting in the wheelchair.

His empty sleeves swayed gently, blown by the cold air from the air conditioning...