Edmonds was shackled and in the loose, gray clothing of a criminal. Though his head had been shaved upon processing, his eyes were wild. Whatever his punishment, it will have been worth it. “I am,” he said.

“And,” Deputy Daniels continued, “do you declare that your admissions in this court of law are yours and yours alone?”

“I do.”

“Let us begin,” said Deputy Daniels.

Edmonds stared at Lady Mae who sat at a table with her hands folded in her lap. He did not look at Arbuckle, only Lady Mae. Afraid that if she let her eyes fall on the man she would crumble, she kept her own eyes on Deputy Daniels and watched him arrange his gavel and papers. Arbuckle sat straight and rigid next to her, but she did not turn to look at him. She was ashamed—ashamed at what she was, what had happened to Arbuckle no doubt because of her. She wished to say to him I know it and you is right and do you think we can.

But what if he never understands, Mama?

Won’t know until you say, my girl.

“We are here to sentence you for the crime you committed: assaulting Arbuckle Anfield and Lady Mae Hilvers. Are you aware of said crime?” asked Deputy Daniels.

“Yes.” Edmonds’ body shook slightly from the nervous bouncing of his foot on the courtroom floor.

“Well, then, please put it into your own words for the court.” Deputy Daniels motioned to the residents sitting stiffly in the rows of wooden benches.

“I guess—” he began. He cleared his throat, but Lady Mae did not turn her head; she had steeled herself, and though she could sense his eyes in her periphery, she still did not look toward him.

“It were an accident. I was running, fell on the two of them, I guess. I tried to get up and keep running, but Anfield over there threw me down, started in with his fists. Just like his father. Ain’t had no choice but to swing back, I reckon.”

“There is a discrepancy in your version of events,” said Deputy Daniels. “Both parties claim you laid hands upon them without cause.”

“I was only trying to defend myself.”

“Did you or did you not knowingly lay your hands upon the two residents sitting there?” He pointed directly at Lady Mae and Arbuckle.

There was a pause, and Edmonds looked down, perhaps at his hands or feet, and stayed like that for a few moments. Deputy Daniels waited calmly for him to respond. It was a long pause, as if he were mustering up the courage to apologize. Not that it would deter his sentence, but maybe he felt remorse or at least a slight sense of sorrow. Maybe the other residents weren’t that hateful after all.

“Aye,” he said softly. His head hung, and Lady Mae thought she imagined his admission. His shoulders shook, and underneath the creaks and snaps of the residents in the pews, she heard a laugh.