Chapter 5 - The Trial of the Century
The courtroom was packed. Every gossip columnist in the city was there, waiting to see the "War Hero vs. The Socialite Queen." Claire looked stunning in a tailored cream suit, her eyes wet with tears as she testified, talking about her "deep devotion" to her children and her "shocking" removal from the home.
Her lawyers were masterful, turning every military deployment I’d had into a sign of "abandonment."
Then, it was my turn.
I took the stand, not as a soldier, but as a father. I kept my answers simple. I didn't react to the insults. I let the evidence speak. When the video of her putting the sedative in Mateo’s formula finally played in the courtroom, the silence was absolute.
Claire started to weep loudly, trying to gain sympathy, but the judge—a woman who had listened to the testimony without expression—simply held up a hand.
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"Mrs. Whitman," the judge said, her voice like ice. "There is nothing you can say that will explain away the look of terror on your daughter’s face when she saw you enter that room."
When Sarah took the stand, the destruction was complete. She laid out the months of torture, the threats, and the isolation. By the time Sarah was done, the jury wasn't even looking at Claire. They were looking at the floor, disgusted.
