Chapter 6 - The Trial of Arthur Vance
The courtroom was freezing.
I sat on the wooden bench next to Chloe, wearing a conservative grey suit, my hands folded perfectly in my lap.
Arthur sat at the defense table, wearing a tailored navy suit. He looked exactly like the charming, successful businessman he always pretended to be.
He didn't look at us. He was too busy performing for the jury.
The trial had been brutal.
The defense lawyer tried to paint Chloe and me as troubled, rebellious teens who colluded to frame a strict but loving stepfather to get our hands on a multi-million dollar trust fund.
Then, my mother took the stand.
Eleanor looked ten years older. She was gaunt, her hands shaking violently as she swore on the Bible.
"Mrs. Vance," the prosecutor asked. "Did your husband abuse your daughters?"
Arthur stared at her. A heavy, suffocating glare.
For a moment, I thought she would lie again. I thought she would crumble under his gaze.
But Eleanor looked away from him. She looked at Chloe, then at me.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice cracking. "He beat them. Every night. And I... I let him."
The courtroom erupted into whispers.
The defense tried to destroy her credibility, calling her an unstable alcoholic trying to save herself from prison.
But then, the prosecution called their final witness.
Detective Miller.
"Detective, could you please play State's Evidence Exhibit 4 for the court?"
The audio technician hit a button.
The sound of the blasting television filled the courtroom.
Then, Arthur's voice.
"Still pretending you're fearless, Maya?"
Then the sickening thud.
The jury physically recoiled. One juror covered her mouth. The judge's face turned to stone.
It was one thing to hear a story about abuse.
It was an entirely different thing to sit in a quiet room and listen to it happen.
I watched Arthur.
His charming mask didn't just slip. It shattered.
He sank into his chair, his face pale, his eyes darting around the room looking for an exit that didn't exist.
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He was finally feeling exactly what he had forced us to feel for years.
Absolute, inescapable terror.
