Chapter 21 - Sophie Takes the Stand
Sophie’s testimony lasted nearly four hours.
She told the truth in a way Mason had never expected.
She admitted she loved him.
That mattered.
She admitted she defended him against me.
That mattered too.
She admitted she signed documents without reading every page after Ava’s birth.
She admitted she hit Mason.
She admitted she had screamed during arguments.
She admitted she had once told Rachel she wanted to destroy everything connected to the marriage.
Mason’s attorney tried to use each admission.
Instead, every one made her harder to attack.
“You struck my client in the kitchen,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Across the head.”
“Yes.”
“Hard enough to injure him.”
“Yes.”
“And you consider that appropriate behavior?”
“No.”
The attorney paused.
Sophie continued.
“I consider it what I did when I entered a room and saw my twelve-day-old daughter in danger, my mother bleeding, and my sister-in-law holding my mother’s clothing.”
“You did not see how the incident started.”
“No.”
“So you relied on assumptions.”
“I relied on what was in front of me.”
He moved to her postpartum condition.
“You were sleeping poorly.”
“Yes.”
“You were emotional.”
“Yes.”
“You cried frequently.”
“Yes.”
“Did Mr. Reed express concerns about your stability?”
“Yes.”
“So he was concerned.”
“No.”
The attorney raised an eyebrow.
“You just said—”
“He used concern as a word.”
The prosecutor objected to argument.
The judge instructed Sophie to answer narrowly.
She nodded.
Mason’s attorney presented one recording.
Sophie crying in the living room.
“You agree this is you?”
“Yes.”
“You sound distressed.”
“I was.”
“You accuse Mr. Reed of making you feel crazy.”
“Yes.”
“And then he tells you to calm down.”
“Yes.”
“Would you describe yourself as calm here?”
“No.”
The attorney looked satisfied.
Then Sophie said, “Can we play thirty seconds before that?”
The room changed.
The prosecutor had already entered the full recording into evidence.
The longer clip began.
Mason’s voice came first.
“You forgot again.”
Sophie: “Forgot what?”
Mason: “We talked about your mother coming tomorrow.”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Yes, we did.”
“We didn’t.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Stop saying that.”
“You’ve been forgetting things.”
“I’m nine months pregnant.”
“You said the same thing yesterday.”
“About what?”
“You don’t remember?”
The recording continued.
By the time it reached Sophie crying, the context was different.
He had been provoking doubt.
Not proof of a diagnosis.
Proof of a pattern.
Later, the attorney asked about the trust.
“You understood your mother controlled distributions.”
“She administered them.”
“Controlled them.”
“Use whatever word you want.”
“Did that create conflict?”
“Yes.”
“Did your mother ever refuse money you requested?”
“Once.”
“What amount?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
“For?”
“A business idea.”
“Whose?”
“Mason’s.”
The attorney changed direction quickly.
Sophie noticed.
So did the judge.
After testimony, she came to the courthouse bathroom and threw up.
Again.
I waited outside.
Again.
When she emerged, she smiled weakly.
“I’m developing a tradition.”
“You were excellent.”
“I was honest.”
“That’s better.”
She leaned against the wall.
“I looked at him.”
“I saw.”
“He looked angry.”
“Yes.”
“For months I thought if he ever looked angry, I needed to fix it.”
She wiped her mouth with a tissue.
“Today I realized his anger is just information.”
I smiled.
“That sounds like your father.”
“I know.”
The hearing resulted in several charges moving forward.
Other allegations remained under investigation.
Nolan Price faced separate scrutiny.
Patricia negotiated through counsel.
Erica continued cooperating.
The divorce case advanced alongside the criminal matters.
It was exhausting.
But by then Sophie had routines.
Feeding Ava.
Therapy.
Legal meetings.
Walks.
Sleep when possible.
She refused to let the case become the only thing happening in her life.
One afternoon, she returned to the coffee shop where Mason had first approached her.
I went with her but sat at another table.
She ordered the same drink.
Cinnamon latte.
She sat by the window for twenty minutes.
Then came over.
“Ready?”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Why come?”
“Because I wanted the place back.”
I understood.
Mason had converted ordinary locations into evidence.
Sophie was converting them back.
At home, she opened the wedding album Mason had cut apart.
Instead of throwing it away, she removed every damaged page.
Then she kept the photographs that contained people she still loved.
Me.
Linda.
Friends.
Her father’s picture on the memorial table.
“It was still my wedding day,” she said.
“It just wasn’t the marriage I thought.”
That evening, Cavanaugh called.
A forensic accountant had completed the Northstar review.
The total losses linked to Mason, Erica, Patricia, and associated entities across nearly a decade were far larger than anyone thought.
More than $1.2 million.
Rachel’s family.
Melissa.
Catherine.
Smaller investors.
Identity-theft victims.
Sophie sat quietly after hearing the number.
Then asked one question.
“How much of mine did he actually get?”
“Forty-eight thousand, subject to recovery.”
She looked down at Ava.
“So he destroyed his whole life trying to get money he never reached.”
I said, “It was never just the money.”
Sophie nodded.
May you like
“I know.”
And that was when I realized she understood Mason better than she ever had while married to him.
