KRISTA ROMERO

FADE IN:

INT. COURTHOUSE — JUDGE’S OFFICE / HALLWAY — DAY — JUNE 4, 1997

A door opens.

KRISTA walks out of the judge’s office.

Beside her is her young son, TYLER.

HECTOR, Krista’s father, JOHN KIRTON, and BISHOP WHITESIDE walk with them.

No celebration montage.

No explanation.

Just five people walking down a courthouse hallway toward an elevator.

The elevator doors open.

Before they can step inside, AUNT SHIRLEY walks out.

She sees Krista.

In her hands are flowers.

Shirley walks directly to her and hands them to her.

For a moment, the courthouse disappears behind the gesture.

Krista looks at the flowers.

Then at her family.

Her mother isn’t there.

Her father is.

Tyler is.

Hector is.

Bishop Whiteside is.

And Aunt Shirley has arrived carrying flowers.

KRISTA (V.O.)
People will tell you a name tells you who somebody is.

It doesn’t.

A name can tell you when.

Before I walked into that courthouse, I already had a history.

I was already John Kirton’s daughter.

I was already Tyler’s mother.

I had already worked.

Already loved.

Already lived.

And Tyler had already been born.

He came before Krista Romero.

CLOSE ON: THE FLOWERS.

KRISTA (V.O.)
June 4, 1997.

That’s when Krista Romero entered my record.

Not when I was born.

Not when my story began.

Just when that name began.

The elevator doors remain open.

Krista steps forward.

TITLE:

KRISTA ROMERO

SUPER:
June 4, 1997

The elevator doors close.

CUT TO BLACK.