Chapter 4 - THE PRELIMINARY HEARING
The county courthouse smelled of lemon wax, old paper, and institutional anxiety. As I walked down the marble corridor flanked by Julian Vance and two plainclothes security guards, camera shutters exploded like synchronized firecrackers. News of Cassidy’s livestreamed arrest had racked up twelve million views across social platforms overnight. Headlines called it the "Couture Poison Scandal," but to me, it was simply forty-eight hours after my sister tried to dissolve my skin because she wanted sixty acres of riverfront timber.
I wore a charcoal blazer over a high-collared cream blouse. The medical dressing on my left cheek was small, sterile, and deliberate. Julian had advised against hiding it with a scarf. *“Let them see the reality of what was done to you,”* he had said. *“Dignity is your armor, Meredith. Let Cassidy wear the shame.”*
Inside Courtroom 3B, the temperature was freezing. The defense bench was already occupied. Lydia sat upright, clutching an off-brand beige cardigan over her shoulders; the jail had stripped her of her designer accessories, leaving her bleached hair frizzy and unstyled. Her eyes locked onto mine the instant I entered, burning with pure venom. Beside her, Cassidy sat slumped, wearing a bright orange detention jumpsuit, her hands cuffed to a belly chain. Her face was pasty, tear-streaked, and devoid of the filtered glamour she sold to her hundred thousand followers.
"All rise for the Honorable Judge Marcus Vance," the bailiff bellowed.
No relation to Julian, but Marcus Vance had a reputation throughout the state for showing zero tolerance toward domestic terrorism and premeditated malice. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles, glaring down at the defense counsel table where Cassidy’s court-appointed attorney was furiously leafing through files.
"We are here for bail determination and formal indictment in the matter of the State versus Cassidy Voss and Lydia Voss," the prosecutor, Assistant District Attorney Sarah Chen, announced smoothly. "Your Honor, the State moves to deny bail in its entirety. The defendants orchestrated an attack using a commercial-grade industrial solvent disguised as a cocktail, resulting in chemical burns to the victim, Meredith Vance-Voss. We have digital forensics, merchant receipts, and an unedited video confession obtained prior to their arrest."
Cassidy’s lawyer, a sweaty man named Halloway, jumped up. "Your Honor! This is an overreach. It was a domestic dispute—a prank gone horribly wrong! My client was under immense emotional strain regarding family estate matters. A pink cosmo spilled during an argument does not constitute a chemical weapon!"
"A prank?" ADA Chen scoffed, stepping forward with an oversized manila envelope. "Your Honor, with the court's permission, I present Exhibit B: chemical analysis from the state crime lab. The pink liquid did not contain cranberry juice or vodka. It contained concentrated trichloroacetic acid—a compound purchased under an alias forty-eight hours before the family dinner. At ninety percent purity, it eats through dermal tissue within seconds."
The courtroom gallery gasped. Behind me, reporters scribbled furiously.
Judge Vance leaned forward, his knuckles whitening against his bench. "Counselor, in what corner of this commonwealth does a ninety percent acid solution qualify as a 'spilled cosmo'?"
"She... she did not know the toxicity, Your Honor," Halloway stammered, casting a panicked glance back at Lydia.
Lydia couldn't hold her tongue. She stood up, knocking her wooden chair back with a loud clatter. "Meredith gave herself that burn! She rubbed it in to frame my daughter! She’s always been jealous of Cassidy! Look at her, sitting there playing the saint while she steals our inheritance!"
"Sit down, Mrs. Voss, or you will spend the next thirty days in contempt," Judge Vance roared, slamming his gavel with a force that made the brass microphone hum. "Bail is denied for both defendants. Cassidy Voss, you will remain remanded at the county correctional facility without bond pending grand jury indictment. Lydia Voss, your bail is set at two million dollars cash, surrendered passport, and full electronic monitoring."
Cassidy let out a choked shriek as two female deputies gripped her elbows to haul her through the holding cell door. "Meredith! Look at me! You can't do this to me! I'm your sister!"
I didn't blink. I met her wild, terrified gaze until the heavy iron door slammed shut between us.
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"Step one," Julian whispered, gently touching my elbow. "Now we find out who paid for that acid."
***