She walked from the gallery on legs that barely supported her.
Her heels struck the hardwood unevenly.
Her hands trembled visibly.
Dad’s stare drilled into the back of her head.
She had been coached.
Rehearsed.
Every sentence scripted by Foss and approved by Dad during private meetings in his home office.
Disobedience wasn’t an option.
She had no independent income.
No savings.
No professional life outside the financial ecosystem Dad controlled.
Lauren placed her hand on the Bible and swore to tell the truth.
Then she looked toward the judge and forced tears down her face.
Finally, she pointed at me.
“She isolated Gran. She explicitly threatened me, telling me if I ever visited the house, she would use her military connections to ruin my husband’s business.”
The lie settled over the courtroom like smoke.
I remained perfectly still.
I didn’t shake my head.
I didn’t sigh.
