Beyond Justice by Joshua Graham

wife and daughter die, seeing my boy beaten within a sliver of his life, was bad enough.  But to lie and say I did it?  At times I would actually welcome the death penalty, if for no other reason than to put an end to it all.  But in my heart, I kept hearing Jenn say, " Aaron needs you. "
    I am ashamed to admit there were even days when I doubted he’d ever pull through.  Sustaining hope was exhausting, especially when forbidden to visit.  Still, Aaron became my sole reason to go on.  That, and the furious determination to find the bastard who did this to my family and bring him to justice.  And I didn’t mean the California Criminal Justice System.  If I ever got a hold of him, I would try, convict, and execute him in the court of Sam Hudson.  No punishment was too cruel or unusual for that animal.
    Mack had worked long hours chasing down every potential lead and witness, interviewing every expert—pathologists, criminalists, computer forensics.  Refusing to concede that he’d exhausted all possible avenues, he remained optimistic.
      When I pressed Rachel about my chances, however, she was not nearly as positive. "We really needed the DNA test results," she said.  "It’s our best piece of exculpatory evidence."
    "What’s the hold up?"
    "I’m not sure."  She exhaled forcefully.  "Their case is highly circumstantial, but I have to tell you, it’s going to be tough.  Juries in murder cases like these want blood." She came over, sat in a chair next to me and put her hand on my shoulder.  "You might want to consider the deal."
    "And lie to the whole world, saying I raped Bethie, killed her and her mother, beat my son into a coma with a baseball bat?"
    "I’m not saying that."
    "Then what are you saying?  Because that’s exactly what it’ll sound like."
    "You’re facing the death penalty, Sam.  I’m not certain we can win this."
    "I can’t believe you’re even suggesting it."
    She took a deep breath, held still for a long pause.  Then stood up and rubbed her eyebrows.  "I’m just—!  I’m just trying to keep you alive."
    "At what cost?  Dammit Rachel, you’re starting to sound like those TV-show lawyers."
    She stepped over and jabbed her finger at me.  "You’re letting pride get in the way of what’s most important, and trust me, it’s not your reputation or your good name!"
    "Oh really?"  I stood too.
    "Yes, really.  What good will you be to Aaron if you’re dead?"
    "I won’t be much good to him if I’m put away for life."
    "At least you’ll be alive!"
    "And he wakes up only to find his father pled guilty to killing his mother and sister!"  We stood face to face, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, my fists clenched.  If anger and frustration had been flames, the entire building would have burned to the ground.  Neither of us had slept more than a couple of hours a day for the past few weeks.  It was taking its toll.
    Blowing out a long breath and running my hand through my hair, I went over to her. "Rachel, tell me.  Are you still willing to go in there and fight?"
    "Of course.  It’s just..." She turned her back to me.
    "What?  What is it?"
    "I...I just can’t..."
    I went over stood behind her. "You can’t what?"
    She turned around and with anguished eyes, said, "I can’t imagine the thought of you laying there, strapped to a table with tubes in your arms.  I can’t imagine them injecting you with— I just can’t..."
    I didn’t know what to say.  She was embarrassed and clearly hadn’t meant to make this about her feelings.  But there they were.  And they mattered to me a great deal. 
    "We have to fight this," I whispered, wanting to but afraid to reach out and give her a reassuring touch.
    "I know.  To plead, that would be lying." She turned to me, her composure regained.
    "Is your God a just God?" I asked.
    "Yes, but…"
    I lifted her chin. "Then we have to believe that truth and justice will prevail." She nodded and sniffled.  "Didn’t you get a