Chapter 14
Gene’s trial began in spring.
By then, Clara could walk with a cane.
Arthur had moved into our guest room because he could not sleep in the house Gene poisoned with lies.
Holly loved having him there.
He helped with homework.
Burned toast.
Watched cartoons too seriously.
One night I found him sewing Holly’s stuffed rabbit because Brandon had told him it mattered.
He looked embarrassed.
“I’m not good at this.”
Holly hugged him anyway.
“You’re learning.”
The trial was brutal.
Gene’s lawyers painted Clara as confused.
Then Clara took the stand.
She named dates.
Rooms.
Medications.
The exact pattern on the rope Gene used.
She described hearing Christmas music from the old radio while Gene told her nobody wanted an elderly burden around.
The jury stared at Gene.
Gene stared at Clara like hate could still lock doors.
Melissa testified about Edward’s trust.
Dr. Pierce testified in exchange for leniency.
Arthur testified last.
His voice shook.
“My wife taught me that peace meant silence,” he said. “I was silent too long.”
The prosecutor asked, “Do you believe Brandon is your son?”
Arthur turned toward him.
“He is my son. Biology is information. Love is history.”
Brandon cried beside me.
Holly crawled into his lap in the courtroom hallway afterward.
“Daddy, Grandpa said it right.”
Brandon kissed her forehead.
“Yes, he did.”
That night, Gene’s lawyer offered a plea.
She refused.
“She wants control until the end,” Melissa said.
May you like
Brandon looked at me.
“Then we let truth finish it.”
