Chapter 12
Adrian took the stand on the ninth day.
His lawyer thought he could humanize him.
Terrible gamble.
He spoke softly at first.
About being raised by Eleanor.
About fear.
About family pressure.
About wanting to keep peace.
Then the prosecutor asked, “Did peace require striking your wife with a plate?”
Adrian swallowed.
“No.”
“Did peace require forging her name?”
“No.”
“Did peace require helping hide Lila Reyes beneath her condo?”
His mouth opened.
Closed.
“No.”
“Then why did you do it?”
Adrian looked at his mother.
Eleanor did not look back.
He whispered, “Because I thought if I obeyed her, she would protect me.”
The prosecutor stepped closer.
“From consequences?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
Not fear.
Calculation.
The jury heard it.
So did I.
Then came the worst exhibit.
A recording from the basement.
Adrian’s voice.
Claire is useful because she owns the condo. Once Mom moves in, we control the building access.
My breath caught.
He had not simply tolerated Eleanor’s plan.
He designed part of it.
The defense went pale.
Rebecca squeezed my hand.
I stared at Adrian until he finally looked at me.
He cried.
I did not.
Eleanor testified last against advice.
She called the women liars.
Called me dramatic.
Called Sophie “that child.”
Then the prosecutor asked, “Why did you want Claire’s condo?”
May you like
Eleanor smiled.
“Because it was wasted on her.”
