Chapter 6 - The Broken Mirror
Three months after the night in the kitchen, the preliminary criminal trial began in a federal courthouse in Querétaro. The room was packed with reporters, local activists from the women's collective, and curious onlookers.
Adrian sat at the defense table. He had lost weight; his expensive haircut was gone, replaced by the standard prison buzz cut. He kept his eyes fixed on the table, refusing to look at the gallery. Beside him, Beatriz looked haggard, her designer clothes replaced by wrinkled, cheap garments, her aristocratic posture entirely broken.
Mariana took the stand. Her right hand was no longer heavily bandaged, but a thick, dark scar covered her palm—a permanent reminder of her survival.
The defense attorney stood up to cross-examine her. "Mrs. Hale, isn't it true that you deliberately provoked your husband that night? That you were looking for a way to exit the marriage with his family's wealth?"
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"His family's wealth was my grandmother's trust fund," Mariana replied, her voice loud, clear, and steady. "I didn't provoke him. I served a steak. He decided that my flesh was the price for a meal he didn't like. For two years, I was told I was nothing without him. But look at us today. I am standing here telling the truth, and he is sitting there because he cannot face it."
A murmur ran through the courtroom. The judge slammed his gavel, but the damage to the defense was done. The prosecution then played the kitchen video on a massive projection screen. The sound of Mariana's scream filled the room, making several members of the jury flinch and look away in horror.
