Chapter 7 - The Trial Begins
Two months later, the courtroom was packed. On one side sat Marcus, dressed in a sharp suit provided by his high-priced defense attorney, looking smug and confident. Surrounding him were five of the six family members who had stood in my kitchen that night, ready to lie under oath to save their own reputations.
On our side sat Katherine Vance, Uncle Richard, Maya, and me.
The defense attorney took the podium, portraying Marcus as a hardworking, devoted father who was simply trying to discipline an unmanageable teenager. He produced affidavits signed by my aunts and cousins claiming they had never seen Marcus act violently.
Then, Katherine stood up.
"Your Honor, the defense claims my client is exaggerating," Katherine said calmly. "They claim six witnesses saw nothing wrong. We would like to call our first witness: Mrs. Clara Vance—Elena's mother."
My mother walked up to the witness stand, her hands trembling. She looked over at Marcus, who glared at her with a silent threat. But then she looked at Maya, who sat tall and brave in the second row, holding my hand.
For the first time in her life, my mother chose her blood over her pride.
"Mrs. Vance," Katherine asked gently. "On the night of October 12th, what did you see in that kitchen?"
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My mother took a deep breath, tears welling in her eyes. She looked straight at Marcus. "I saw my son-in-law pin my granddaughter to the floor. I saw him beat her and rip her hair out over a glass of water. And I was too much of a coward to stop him."
A collective gasp echoed through the courtroom. Marcus snapped, slamming his fist on the defense table. "You crazy old hag!" he yelled before his lawyer pulled him down.