The Practitioner
Copyright© 2026 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 25: A Quiet Finality
I leaned back into the bench, trying to shake off the heaviness in the air, but it clung to me like a weight I couldn’t shrug off. The tension hung thick between Isla and Jeffrey, who had begun speaking to her in low tones, just enough for me to hear.
“Look, Isla,” he began, his tone calm, yet sharp with the undercurrent of urgency. “I told you last week on the phone, the judge is likely going to rule in the Department’s favor. She’ll keep you in these restraints for now.” He paused for a moment, his eyes briefly flicking to the floor, as if searching for the best way to put it. “I know this doesn’t make sense, but it really is a safety matter for you. You’re safer in those until your record can get fixed. Unfortunately, the DOCCS has the upper hand. At least for the time being.”
Isla didn’t respond immediately. She sat there, her face a mask of tension, eyes fixed on nothing. The heavy metal of the shackles seemed to press into her, a reminder of how little control she had.
Jeffrey exhaled, adjusting his posture. “But I’ll push for a short window—a limited timeframe for them to fix your record. The judge won’t have much choice. We just have to keep the pressure on and bring them back to court, showing that they aren’t resolving the issue.”
Isla’s voice was quiet, almost hollow. “So, I’ll have to do this again? And again? Come here like this? Be humiliated in front of everyone, walking around in my stocking feet?”
Jeffrey paused, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry, Isla. But this ... it takes time. I know it’s not easy. But I can assure you, this is the best path forward. They’re violating your rights, and once we’ve got the proper grounds, we’ll hold them accountable. They’ll pay for it—through a civil trial.”
The message was indirect, but it was clear—I just didn’t see it until now. That’s been his plan all along, which is why he didn’t press the matter aggressively today. He was laying the groundwork for a civil lawsuit to hold the State accountable for its actions, essentially letting the State bury itself. And all the humiliation ... it would be pain and suffering.
Isla’s hands twitched slightly, her fingers curling and uncurling as though she were trying to find some small comfort in her restraints. She didn’t speak at first, her gaze lowered to the floor. There was no sign of relief in her expression—only a weary, almost resigned acceptance. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she nodded, her eyes flickering up just enough for Jeffrey to see.
“Alright,” she said quietly, her voice barely a whisper. “You said on the phone you’d try to get it so I only had to wear these outside? Around others, right? Only in public?”
Jeffrey gave a tight, reassuring smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes. That’s the plan.”
It wasn’t long after that the courtroom door creaked open, the soft sound piercing the silence. The judge, having taken time to consider the arguments, stepped back into the room. She took her seat, and the room fell into a hushed stillness as everyone’s attention returned to her. Her gaze was stern but not unkind as she adjusted the papers before her, her fingers tapping lightly against the surface, as if weighing the gravity of her decision.
“Mr. Sims, Ms. Kumar, I have reviewed the arguments presented today, and I am ready to rule,” the judge said, her voice measured but firm. She looked directly at Jeffrey, then briefly at Isla, before continuing.
“I am not blind to the circumstances surrounding this case. While I am mindful of the broader investigation underway, it appears to the Court that the Department of Corrections’ actions are driven less by adherence to protocol and more by an effort to insulate itself from scrutiny. The system failed Ms. Kumar, and that failure resulted in a serious consequence: she was improperly classified and subjected to restraints that were not justified. I do not regard that lightly.”
Her eyes softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again as she turned her focus back to the matter at hand.
“However,” she continued, her voice now steely, “the law requires me to base my decision on what ensures the greatest safety for everyone involved, including Ms. Kumar herself. While I do not condone the error that led to her current situation, I am constrained by the fact that her record has not yet been corrected. As long as that classification remains in place, my obligation is to prioritize safety. That means I must address the issue of her restraints—not her record.”
The judge paused, her gaze now fixed on Isla. “I understand this is uncomfortable and unfair. But if Ms. Kumar were encountered by law enforcement outside this facility, with her listed as an escape risk and not in restraints, it could escalate the situation. They wouldn’t know about the error. Without the restraints, it could endanger her life.”
Her voice hardened, shifting from sympathy to firm resolve. “This is not an ideal situation, and I share in the concern regarding the Department’s delay in correcting the record. However, the Court’s obligation is to prioritize safety—both Ms. Kumar’s and that of the public. Accordingly, and until such time as the Department rectifies the classification error, this Court must, as a matter of legal and procedural necessity, order that Ms. Kumar wear restraints.”
She glanced down at the folder before her once more. “Furthermore, the restraints shall conform to those specified in Ms. Kumar’s current DOCCS classification, as reflected in the record before the Court.”
There was a long pause, the weight of her words settling into the room like a heavy fog.
As the judge finished, Jeffrey remained composed, though his mind was already shifting to his next move. He knew the ruling was not a complete loss—there were still avenues to explore.
“Your Honor,” he began, his voice calm but firm, “while I understand your decision for safety reasons, I respectfully request a few modifications to this order.”
He paused, making sure the judge’s attention was fully on him. “First, I request that the restraints be limited to public areas only, to reduce the strain and humiliation Ms. Kumar is experiencing. This would allow her some privacy and dignity while still addressing concerns about her safety.”
Jeffrey’s tone grew slightly more pressing. “Secondly, I would request a follow-up hearing in fourteen days to review the progress of the Department in correcting Ms. Kumar’s record. This situation has already gone on too long, and a firm deadline will help ensure accountability.”
“And lastly, regarding Ms. Kumar’s psychological well-being, the psychiatric evaluation submitted to the court clearly indicates that these restraints are having a significant impact on her mental health. The report recommends weekly therapy sessions, but given her financial constraints, it is unreasonable to place the burden of those costs solely on her. I ask the court to consider ordering the State to cover those expenses.”
He paused, letting his request hang in the air. It was a lot to ask, but he had no intention of backing down. “The State must bear some responsibility for this—after all, it’s their failure that brought us to this point.”
The judge’s eyes flicked over to the DOCCS side of the courtroom, her gaze sharp and calculating, as if weighing the full gravity of her decision. There was a brief, almost imperceptible flicker of something—frustration, perhaps, or maybe a deeper resolve—before she turned her attention back to Isla and Jeffrey.
“Given the situation and the State’s inability to address this matter promptly, I will modify the conditions. Ms. Kumar will only be required to wear the restraints in public, or in any setting where law enforcement is present.”
Her voice was firm, but the words carried a subtle, unspoken challenge. She didn’t look directly at the DOCCS representatives again, but her decision felt pointed, as though directed at them.
“In private settings, including her home, the restraints may be removed, provided there are no ongoing concerns regarding safety or security.”
She took a deliberate breath, her expression tightening as she added, “This will be the order until the Department rectifies her classification.”
The judge then continued, her tone steady as she addressed the psychiatrist report. She glanced briefly at the document, her fingers skimming over the pages before looking back up.
“I am ordering the Department of Corrections to cover all expenses for Ms. Kumar’s therapy and care.”
Her gaze hardened for a moment, as though weighing the impact of her decision, before she added, “This will be a requirement for the duration of her treatment and until the Department resolves the matter with her classification.”
Mr. Cartwright, clearly unsettled by the ruling, leaned forward, his voice gaining an edge as he addressed the judge.
“Your Honor, I must respectfully object to the order for the Department to cover the expenses of Ms. Kumar’s therapy. While I understand the Court’s concerns, this is an undue financial burden on the Department. The Department’s resources are already stretched, and I believe this order oversteps the scope of what the State is obligated to provide.”
His tone was firm, but his words betrayed a hint of frustration. He glanced briefly at the judge before continuing.
“I request that this part of the ruling be reconsidered, as it goes beyond the legal requirements and places a significant strain on our resources.”
The judge turned her gaze back to him, her voice steady but firm.
“Mr. Cartwright, the psychiatric report clearly shows that Ms. Kumar is experiencing signs of dissociation from the restraints.”
She opened the folder containing Isla’s report and skimmed through it again. “The psychiatrist is concerned that, over time, Ms. Kumar may grow accustomed to the physical restraints—and that she’s already beginning to associate them with safety, even showing signs of comfort.”
“Your Honor,” Cartwright began, “with all due respect, I find it difficult to accept the idea that anyone would find comfort in physical restraints. Frankly, I question the credibility of that conclusion.”
“Moreover,” he added, “as the State has indicated, it was not we who required Ms. Kumar to wear the restraints. That decision was made by local law enforcement, and the State is of the position that any associated costs should be borne by them.”
The judge glanced down at her bench, then slowly looked around the courtroom, clearly unimpressed. “I don’t see the Department’s psychological evaluation of Ms. Kumar in the record,” she said pointedly. “Was it not submitted, Mr. Cartwright?”
It was obvious she was mirroring the same evasiveness she’d been getting from the State. With no response from the Department’s counsel, she pressed on.
“And regarding your request that local law enforcement bear the cost of Ms. Kumar’s psychiatric evaluation. It is clear that local authorities are acting in accordance with the record provided by the Department. Had the Department corrected Ms. Kumar’s classification in a timely manner, it is likely these proceedings would not have been necessary.”
She then turned her attention to Isla.
“Ms. Kumar, you’ve remained respectful and quiet throughout, but I’d like to hear from you now.”
The judge then asked, “Can you describe how wearing the restraints has affected you—physically or emotionally? I’ve reviewed the report from your psychiatrist, but I’d like to hear from you directly.”
Isla hesitated. Her eyes flicked to Jeffrey, seeking reassurance, then back to the judge.
“I’m...” She paused, her voice catching. “I’m trying.”
The judge’s tone softened. “Please—take your time.”
Isla gave a faint nod. “Some days I’m okay. Other days ... I’m not.” Her eyes welled, but she blinked the tears back, determined to hold herself together.
The courtroom fell quiet—not because she raised her voice, but because it trembled.
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