MY DAUGHTER-IN-LAW DIDN’T KNOW THAT I WAS A RETIRED JUDGE WHO HAD JAILED HUNDREDS OF ABUSEOUS HUSBANDS—HE THOUGHT I WAS JUST AN OLD MAN WITH NO FIGHT. BUT WHEN HE HURT MY SON IN FRONT OF ME, I IMMEDIATELY REVOKED HIS SENTENCE.
I’m Olivia. To my son-in-law’s family, I’m just a simple widow. Quiet, always wearing a cardigan, and silently sitting in a corner. They see me as a “harmless” old man who can be bullied.

What they don’t know is that I’m Honorable Judge Olivia Mondragon. In my 40 years in the judiciary, I’ve been called “The Iron Gavel” of the Family Court. I’ve put hundreds of husbands who beat their wives to death in jail.

Tonight, we’re at a luxury restaurant to celebrate my son-in-law Gary’s promotion. We were with her father, Don Miguel, a proud businessman.

My daughter Sofia was sitting quietly next to Gary. I noticed that her hands were shaking. She had a bruise on her arm that she was trying to cover with foundation.

The waiter arrived.

“What do you want, Ma’am?” the waiter asked Sofia.

“Ah… a glass of Pinot Noir please,” Sofia replied weakly.

Gary’s expression suddenly changed.

“Pinot Noir?!” Gary shouted. “You’re really stupid! We’re having steak! You should be ordering Cabernet! You’re embarrassing my Daddy!”

Before Sofia could move, Gary grabbed my daughter’s hair.

He pulled Sofia’s head back hard.

“Ouch! Gary! It hurts!” Sofia cried.

The people in the restaurant looked at her. But instead of being embarrassed, her father, Don Miguel, just laughed out loud. He clapped his hands while drinking wine.

“Hahaha! That’s right, son!” Don Miguel shouted, still clapping. “Discipline! That girl should know her place. That’s what it’s like to grow up without a father. No one taught her respect. Good job, son!”

“Sorry… sorry…” Sofia cried while Gary still held her hair.

My blood boiled.

For many years, I have kept quiet for my daughter’s peace. But tonight? In front of me? They called my daughter “fatherless”?

I slowly stood up.

My demeanor was not that of an old widow. My demeanor was that of a Judge entering his living room.

I picked up the steak knife from the table. Not to stab, but to make a sound on the glass.

TING. TING. TING.

The table fell silent. Gary let go of Sofia’s hair. They looked at me.

“What’s your problem, old man?” Gary snarled. “Sit down there. You might get a heart attack.”

I looked Gary in the eye. My gaze was cold, sharp, and fearless. The gaze that criminals fear.

“Gary,” I began. My voice was low but thunderous with authority. “Don Miguel.”

“You said my son is ‘fatherless’?”

I walked closer to them.

“It’s true. My husband is dead. He was a Police General who died in the line of duty. So you’re right, he doesn’t have a father to protect him now.”

I stopped in front of Gary.

“But you forgot to ask what his mother does for a living.”

“Huh? Aren’t you just a saleswoman?” Don Miguel laughed.

I smiled. A terrifying smile.

“I am Judge Olivia Mondragon of the Regional Trial Court Branch 12. And for four decades, my job has been to put animals like you in jail.”

Don Miguel’s eyes widened. Gary dropped his fork.

“J-Judge…?” Gary stammered. “Mondragon…?”

Don Miguel suddenly remembered the name. He was the judge who had put his business partner in jail before.

“Mommy…” Sofia cried, running after me.

I faced Gary.

“Violation of RA 9262. Physical Abuse. Psychological Violence. Public Humiliation. And you, Miguel, Accomplice and Enabler.”

I took out my cellphone and called the Chief of Police on my speed dial.

“Chief? I’m at Casa D’Oro. Send me a patrol car. I’m going to arrest someone. Now.”

Gary turned pale. “M-Mom! It was just a joke! I was just drunk! Sofia, tell your Mom!”

I got close to Gary’s face. So close that I could smell his fear.

“Don’t worry, Gary,” I whispered calmly. “You’re looking for Sofia’s Dad, right?”

I looked him up and down.

“You will meet her father soon enough… IN HELL.”

“But before you get there, you’ll have to go through my prison. And I’ll make sure you rot there until your last breath.”

The police arrived. Gary and Don Miguel were handcuffed in front of everyone eating. They were so embarrassed. They didn’t do anything because the police knew who I was.

I hugged Sofia.

“It’s over, son,” I said. “You’re safe. The verdict has been handed down.”

That night, they learned that just because a woman is quiet doesn’t mean she’s without teeth. Sometimes, silence is just a sign that the judge is getting ready to lower the gavel.