Chapter 16 - Before the Trial
Victor spent nine months in detention before trial.
During that time:
Noah learned to sit.
Then crawl.
I learned to walk without a cane most days.
Adrian and I ate breakfast every Sunday when travel allowed.
Not father daughter movie montages.
Sometimes awkward.
He asked too many questions.
I told him.
He adjusted.
I asked about Lydia.
He told me stories I had never heard.
She hated expensive restaurants.
Loved cheap diner pie.
Once threw Adrian’s shoes into a fountain because he took a business call during her birthday.
That sounded like Mom.
Then Victor’s parents met Noah.
After ten months.
Supervised by me.
Thomas Hale held his grandson and cried.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Raising Victor to think failure was shameful.”
I looked at him.
“That didn’t make him push me.”
“No.”
Good.
Evelyn said:
“We should have told you about Serena.”
“Yes.”
“We believed him.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
I allowed a limited grandparent relationship.
No overnight.
No legal control.
They respected.
Then Victor’s defense team offered plea.
Attempted murder plus fraud.
Victor refused.
He insisted:
“Elena fell.”
Despite hospital statement:
You were supposed to freeze.
His attorney knew problem.
Victor would rather risk trial than say:
I pushed her.
That was who he remained.
Then I prepared to testify.
Prosecutor asked me not to memorize.
Just answer.
What happened?
He shoved me.
Why were you there?
Trip.
Argument.
What did he say?
Your baby won’t suffer.
What did you know about insurance?
I had signed ten million application believing estate planning.
Did you authorize fifty?
No.
Did you authorize baby policy?
No.
Did you know Serena was mistress?
Not until mountain.
Then defense would attack:
You were angry.
Yes.
You had marriage problems.
Yes.
You discovered affair.
At cliff, yes.
Could you have stepped backward?
I knew.
I practiced:
“No. Victor put both hands on my shoulders and pushed.”
Simple.
Then Adrian.
He would testify only to insurance claim process and rescue circumstances.
Paternity could prejudice?
Limited.
Court ruled biological relationship relevant to motive if Victor used expected inheritance claims.
But Adrian’s wealth should not dominate jury.
Good.
Then Martin.
Serena.
Ross.
Claims specialist.
Mountain rescue.
Doctors.
Wildlife camera.
Telematics.
Strong case.
Then one surprise.
Victor’s attorney found an email I sent my friend six months before:
Sometimes I wish Victor would disappear.
Of course.
Defense wanted to show hostility.
I laughed.
Prosecutor said:
“It may come in.”
Fine.
I wrote it after an argument where Victor missed anniversary.
Not murder plot.
People say things.
Then another message:
If he ever cheats, I’m taking him for everything.
Again.
Angry joke.
Would it hurt?
Maybe.
Truth includes ugly texts too.
Then I told prosecutor:
“Do not hide them.”
“We weren’t.”
Good.
No perfect victim.
Then trial opened.
Victor entered in dark suit.
For one second, I saw the man from charity auction.
The one I loved.
Then he looked at me.
No smile.
No apology.
I touched Noah’s small photograph inside my pocket.
Not for courage.
Reminder.
May you like
I had survived.
Now court could do its job.
