The bailiff enters, and I can actually tell he has aged since 2013. His mustache has more grey, the hairline receding. Before he did not wear glasses. Now he has dark-rimmed square frames. I can gauge the season because his skin is darker here in June, pale in winter hearings. Always the tan sheriff uniform, radio pinned under his chin, badge glistening gold. He does not smile. He offers Kleenex. Constant through the last six years. Every hearing He watched me nervous angry questioning confused crying. Four different judges, but just the bailiff and me. I wonder if he remembers me or others. Does he remember my five year restraining order? the death threats the talk of suicide to my two year and five year old children? Does he recall each woman who has asked the court to sever parental rights from abusive or absent fa...