Chapter 13 - Playing The Unbroken Footage
The courtroom erupted into chaotic shouts.
Bradley was on his feet, waving his arms frantically. “Objection! Your Honor, this is completely irregular! This woman has been mentally unstable, she has evaded process, she cannot simply walk in—”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Judge Callahan slammed his gavel down with enough force to echo like gunshots. “One more word out of you, counselor, and I will have you held in contempt and removed in irons! Sit down!”
Bradley collapsed into his chair, his forehead beaded with sweat.
Judge Callahan looked down at me, his stern gaze softening with profound respect. “Mrs. Vance. The court is relieved to see you and your child in good health. The State Attorney General’s office has briefed this bench on the extraordinary circumstances of this case. You may proceed.”
The Assistant District Attorney stepped forward, plugging a secure military-grade laptop into the courtroom’s integrated projection screens.
“Your Honor,” the prosecutor announced, “we present Exhibit A: the unedited, timestamped, high-definition digital feed recovered from the secure cloud server of the Thomas Vance residence on the afternoon of the alleged ‘accident.’”
On the massive eighty-inch monitors mounted on the courtroom walls, the video flickered to life.
The entire gallery leaned forward. Wendy gripped the wooden railing in front of her, her knuckles turning bone white.
The video played with crystal clarity.
There was Luca, standing over me at the kitchen island, demanding I sign my father’s deed. There was Wendy, sipping her coffee, mocking my father’s working-class heritage.
Then came the audio, booming through the courtroom speakers:
“Why are you so desperate for it?”
And then, the horror unfolded on screen.
The entire courtroom watched in stunned silence as Luca lunged forward with violent force, his hand slamming into my back, shoving my eight-month-pregnant body directly against the boiling stockpot.
The sound of my agonizing shriek filled the room, followed by the sickening splash of boiling liquid.
Several women in the gallery covered their mouths in horror. One of Luca’s primary investors stood up, his face red with disgust, and muttered, “You monster.”
The video didn't stop.
It showed Wendy pointing at the papers, commanding Luca to check if I had signed. It showed Luca spotting the camera, tearing down the dummy unit, stomping it into dust, and coaching his mother on the lie they would tell the paramedics.
“Tell them you slipped, Jessi... We can still be a family...”
The video faded to black.
The silence in the courtroom was absolute. You could hear a pin drop.
Luca was shaking uncontrollably, clutching the edge of the mahogany table, unable to lift his eyes.
In the gallery, Wendy was hyperventilating, pressing her hand against her chest as if she couldn't breathe.
Judge Callahan slowly removed his glasses. He looked down at Luca with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.
May you like
“Mr. Vance,” Judge Callahan said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, quiet rumble. “Do you still maintain that your wife ‘slipped’?”
Luca’s mouth opened, but only a dry, pathetic squeak came out.
