Chapter 7 - The Depositions
The pre-trial depositions took place at the Franklin County Judicial Center six weeks later.
The large conference room was filled with attorneys, court reporters, forensic accountants, and state prosecutors.
Carolina sat on the far side of the table beside her high-priced defense attorney, Jonathan Vance (her uncle, a seasoned corporate litigation lawyer). She wore a conservative white blouse and modest makeup, trying desperately to look like an innocent, victimized mother.
Across from her sat my attorney, Elizabeth Sterling, and myself.
The state prosecutor, Assistant District Attorney Rachel Croft, initiated the questioning.
"Mrs. Owens," ADA Croft began, setting a thick folder on the table. "Can you explain why you told your daughter to wear an oversized sweatshirt inside a warm house on the day your husband returned from Cleveland?"
Carolina glanced nervously at her attorney before speaking into the microphone. "I... I thought she was cold. Gracie gets chills easily."
"I see," ADA Croft said smoothly. "And can you explain why you told her that if she mentioned her back pain to her father, she would 'destroy the family'?"
"I never said that!" Carolina blurted out, her composure slipping. "Sawyer put those words in her head! He's been coaching her! He wants to alienate my daughter from me so he doesn't have to pay alimony!"
Elizabeth Sterling stood up, pressing a button on her laptop.
The large wall monitor lit up.
Playing across the screen was an audio recording taken from Gracie’s pediatric psychological evaluation conducted three weeks prior by Dr. Aris, a certified child trauma specialist.
In the recording, Gracie’s soft, small voice echoed through the cold conference room:
"Mom told me that Dad didn't really love us. She said if I cried when my back hurt, she would tell Dad I was bad and he would leave us forever. She made me practice saying I fell off the swing at school..."
Carolina’s face turned bright red. "That's manipulated! You can't use that!"
"We can, and we are," Elizabeth Sterling stated firmly.
Elizabeth then pulled out the offshore financial audit reports from the Cayman Islands bank.
"Mr. Vance," Elizabeth addressed Carolina’s lawyer, "your client claims she was a dedicated homemaker. Yet over three years, she funnelled $320,000 of marital assets into an account controlled by her mother, while systematically documenting fake 'incidents' of Mr. Owens’ absence to prepare for a fraudulent custody claim."
Jonathan Vance looked at the bank records, then looked at Carolina. His face paled. He leaned over and whispered fiercely in her ear.
Carolina pulled away from him, her eyes wide with frantic panic.
"It was my mother's idea!" Carolina suddenly screamed, pointing her finger blindly across the table. "She told me Sawyer was going to leave me! She told me to secure the money! She told me to be strict with Gracie so she wouldn't talk!"
In the gallery behind her, Bonnie Vance stood up, her face twisted in rage. "Carolina! Shut your mouth!"
"Order in this room!" ADA Croft barked, slamming her hand on the table.
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The deposition devolved into complete chaos as mother and daughter began shouting at each other across the room, exposing their own greed, lies, and conspiracy in front of four court reporters and three state prosecutors.
I sat back in my chair, holding my pen calmly, watching the grand illusion crumble to dust right before my eyes.
