hands of the most conservative judge in the country, do you believe we will still get justice for the victim?”
“To be honest, I’m particularly worried. It’s definitely not a good idea to give such cases to judges who have a tendency to overlook facts and to conclude that there isn’t enough evidence. I just hope Julia Van Den Bosch won’t withdraw the penalty imposed on the assaulter. This is a serious case of domestic violence, and the judiciary system cannot take it lightly.”
We both smile at each other. Yes, I did it. I just called out the judge I despise the most on a TV interview that will be broadcasted nationwide this evening. And while it seems like a small thing, no one in this country has ever done that before. Judges like Julia are untouchable, protected by their powerful families and allies. They are also unknown to the public eye—they live in the shadows, in total anonymity.
“Indeed, the country is in shock. With elections coming up next year, would you urge the next government to make reforms to the judiciary system? Especially when it comes to cases related to domestic violence and violence toward women in general? After all, you’ve been the most prominent voice in this field.”
“I’d definitely urge the future government to elect first and foremost a Minister of Justice and Security who understands the society we live in and the need for reforms,” I tell him. “According to a report conducted by AD, suspects of rape are rarely prosecuted, and those who are, often get away with a low sentence. On average, a convicted rapist spends one year and five months in prison. This is living proof that we urgently need to bring new policies in force.”
“Wow.” Kenneth does a quick fact-check on his iPad. “That’s disturbing. Do you have someone in mind to occupy such a position?”
I ponder his question. “I don’t have anyone in particular, no. But it has to be someone who protects the victims rather than the assaulters to begin with.”
Kenneth lets a smile escape at the corner of his mouth. “If I may, why not you, Ms. Hagen?”
Chapter 1
Bedford Hills, August 27, 2020
Alexander Van Dieren
“So…” I let the word trail off as I look at Petra’s left hand and then at her flushed cheeks. “How does it feel?”
Sitting up in our bed and nestled in my arms, Miss Van Gatt keeps staring at her hand in absolute awe.
“Feels fucking amazing,” she states bluntly. “But it’s not a discreet ring.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Definitely not discreet. The whole world will know you are engaged from miles away.” Then, my smile getting wider, I add, “And just in case you forget to whom, my family name is engraved inside.”
She lets out a quick giggle before resting her head on my shoulder, her joyful expression switching into a thoughtful one. “Are we gonna have an engagement party?”
I press my lips together at her question; I’ve got no idea. “Would you like one?”
But Petra doesn’t reply immediately. I hear her sighing loudly instead. “I’d love to, yes, but does it make you or Dad uncomfortable? I know everyone else sees us, like, um, like, differently.”
After kissing the top of her head, I look into her big blue eyes and say, “I don’t give a damn. If my fiancée wants an engagement party, then we’ll have one.”
We keep quiet as we smile at each other.
I recognize that smile. It’s my favorite one—it’s the one she has when she’s happy, and the one she had when I said yes. Her entire face glows beautifully, and her eyes are even brighter than the sapphire she’s wearing. God, how many nights I’ve wished I could see her big blue eyes again. And despite everything I went through this year, here I am looking at them. Nothing else matters. She is here. And she is finally awake.
“Petra?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” I tell her.
Her brows crease in confusion. “For what?”
“For giving us a second chance.” But before I can say more, we are promptly interrupted by three knocks on the door. “Come in,” I say. And as soon as the women enter, I introduce her to them. “Petra, this is your physician, Dr. Nel, and your nurse, Cynthia. They’ve been taking care of you since you came back from the hospital.”
Born in the Netherlands and residing in New York for the past five years, Dr. Nel Van Djik was recommended—or imposed—by Tess to supervise Petra and her medical care.
But I must say,