Chapter 3 - The Deposition
The courtroom was a cathedral of judgment, cold and unforgiving. As I walked down the aisle, the heavy mahogany doors seemed to seal us into a different reality. The air was thick with the scent of floor wax and perfume. Clara sat at the defense table, draped in a designer suit that looked like an armor she hadn't quite earned. She looked at me and offered a tight, smug smile. She clearly believed she had won. Her lawyer had been aggressive, filing motions to have the vandalism charge dismissed, claiming it was a case of "mistaken identity" and suggesting I had staged the damage for sympathy.
When I took the stand, the weight of the pregnancy made every movement feel heavy, but my voice remained razor-sharp. I was no longer the wife of a cheating husband; I was a witness for the state.
The opposing counsel began his interrogation with a patronizing tone. “Mrs. Sterling, isn't it true that your husband’s career has been a source of stress for you? Isn't it true that you felt neglected?”
“I felt exactly what any wife would feel when faced with infidelity,” I replied, my gaze locked on the judge.
“And you decided to manufacture a scene to blame Ms. Vance?”
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I let a small, sharp smile touch my lips. “I didn't manufacture anything. But I did record everything.”
I signaled to my legal team. They opened a tablet that broadcasted directly to the courtroom monitors. They didn't just show the photos of the ruined car. They displayed the GPS data from Clara’s vehicle, which placed her at the garage at the exact time of the incident, and the security footage of her purchasing the spray paint with a card that Julian had authorized. The room erupted into a murmur of shock. Clara’s smug facade began to fracture, her hands trembling as she reached for her water glass.
