Chapter 16 - I Testified
Trial began fourteen months after assault.
Emma was walking.
Unsteady.
Determined.
I left her with Jenna and my cousin Ruth.
I wore dark blue dress that covered most graft scar.
Not because ashamed.
Because I did not want jury staring at skin instead of listening.
Prosecutor Melissa Brandt asked:
“Why did Julian want house?”
“Business debt.”
“Did you agree?”
“No.”
“Did you ever sign deed?”
“No.”
“Did you authorize lender application?”
“No.”
“Describe final argument.”
I did.
No dramatic language.
His hands.
My refusal.
The shove.
Soup.
Evelyn.
Camera.
911 lie.
Then video played.
I had seen before.
Still my body reacted.
The courtroom heard me scream.
Emma’s life had begun six weeks early because of sound now filling courtroom.
I held edge witness box.
Brandt paused.
“You need break?”
“No.”
We continued.
Defense cross examined.
“Mrs. Miller, you were angry.”
“Yes.”
“You pulled away from husband.”
“Yes.”
“You were moving.”
“Yes.”
“You cannot know what he intended.”
“No.”
“You cannot testify he meant to kill you.”
“No.”
Good question.
I would not overreach.
“Julian called 911.”
“Yes.”
“Within minutes.”
“Yes.”
“He provided correct pregnancy information.”
“Yes.”
“He did not flee.”
“No.”
Then:
“You hated his mother.”
“No.”
“You disliked her.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she invested in his company.”
“Not until investigation.”
“Your father disliked Julian.”
“Yes.”
“So your family was predisposed to interpret his business request as threat.”
“No. He shoved me. That was threat.”
Objection.
Sustained partly.
May you like
I stopped.
Truth did not need speeches.
