Chapter 14
The courtroom went silent.
My mother.
Eleanor Mercer.
The woman who’d given birth to me.
The woman who’d disowned me when I married Grant, because he wasn’t “good enough” for her daughter.
The woman I hadn’t spoken to in eight years.
She was here.
And she was going to testify against me.
The doors at the back of the courtroom opened.
My mother walked in.
She looked exactly like I remembered.
Tall. Elegant. Cold.
Her silver hair was perfectly coiffed. Her designer suit looked like it had been pressed that morning. Her expression was one of righteous indignation.
She walked to the witness stand.
She didn’t look at me.
She swore to tell the truth.
And then she began to speak.
“Mrs. Mercer,” Voss said, approaching the stand. “Can you state your relationship to Dr. Evelyn Mercer?”
“She is my daughter.”
“And how long has it been since you last spoke to her?”
“Eight years. When she married Grant Holloway against my wishes. I told her he was a good man, but she wouldn’t listen. She always was stubborn. Headstrong. And when she didn’t get her way… she could be cruel.”
“Cruel?” Voss repeated. “In what way?”
“When she was a child, if she didn’t get what she wanted, she would lie. She would manipulate. Once, she wanted a pony. I told her we couldn’t afford it. She told the neighbors I was abusing her. That I wasn’t feeding her. That I was locking her in closets. Child protective services came. It took months to clear my name. All because she didn’t get a pony.”
The courtroom murmured.
“As she got older, it got worse,” my mother continued. “When she was in medical school, she was passed over for a prestigious internship. She accused the department head of sexual harassment. He was investigated. His career was ruined. And then it came out that she’d made the whole thing up. Because she was angry. Because she’d been rejected.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
None of this was true.
None of it.
The pony story? A complete fabrication.
The sexual harassment accusation? I’d reported a professor who’d groped me. He’d resigned. He hadn’t been “ruined.”
My mother was lying.
She was lying about her own daughter.
“After her miscarriage,” my mother said, her voice dripping with sympathy, “Evelyn changed. She became obsessed with having a child. When she couldn’t get pregnant again, she fixated on Grant’s daughter, Chloe. She saw that little girl as a replacement for the baby she’d lost. And when Grant threatened to take Chloe away in the divorce… I believe she snapped. I believe she hurt that child. And then she framed my son-in-law to cover it up.”
She looked directly at the jury.
“I know my daughter. I know what she’s capable of. And I’m telling you, Grant Holloway is innocent. My daughter is the one you should be afraid of.”
I felt like I was going to be sick.
My own mother.
The woman who was supposed to love me.
Had sold me out.
Mara stood up to cross-examine.
Her voice was tight with barely controlled anger.
“Mrs. Mercer, you haven’t spoken to your daughter in eight years. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“So you haven’t seen her. You haven’t talked to her. You have no idea what kind of mother she’s been to Chloe. Is that right?”
“I know my daughter. Blood tells.”
“Blood tells,” Mara repeated. “And yet, you disowned her eight years ago. Why?”
My mother hesitated.
“She made choices I didn’t agree with.”
“Choices like marrying Grant Holloway? The same man you’re now defending?”
“I was wrong about Grant. He’s a good man. Evelyn corrupted him.”
“Of course she did,” Mara said dryly. “Mrs. Mercer, isn’t it true that you owe Richard Holloway over one million dollars?”
My mother’s face went pale.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Isn’t it true that you invested heavily in Holloway Industries five years ago? That you lost everything when one of their projects failed? That Richard Holloway personally loaned you the money to keep your house? That he’s been threatening to foreclose on you if you don’t do what he says?”
Tears filled my mother’s eyes.
“He said he’d take everything. I had no choice. He said if I testified, he’d forgive the debt. I’m sorry, Evelyn. I’m so sorry. I had to protect my home. I had to—”
She broke down sobbing.
The courtroom erupted.
Voss looked like he wanted to die.
Grant looked like he was going to kill someone.
Mara had done it again.
She’d destroyed the defense’s surprise witness.
And she’d implicated Richard Holloway in yet another crime.
“Your Honor,” Mara said, “we have the loan documents. We have the emails between Richard Holloway and Mrs. Mercer, threatening foreclosure. This testimony has been bought and paid for. Every word of it.”
Judge Albright looked at my mother, who was still sobbing on the stand.
He looked at Voss.
He looked at Grant.
And then he banged his gavel.
“Bailiff, clear the courtroom. I want everyone out. Now. We will reconvene in one hour. And when we do, Mr. Voss, you had better have a very good explanation for why I shouldn’t declare a mistrial and hold you and your client’s entire family in contempt of court.”
The gavel banged again.
I walked out of the courtroom in a daze.
Lila was waiting for me.
She put her arms around me.
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head.
“My own mother,” I whispered. “She lied about me. Her own daughter.”
Lila held me tight.
“She was paid off, Evelyn. Richard Holloway threatened her. She was scared. That doesn’t excuse what she did, but… it explains it.”
I pulled back.
“How did Mara know? About the loan? About the emails?”
Lila smiled sadly.
“Mara has been investigating everyone. She knew Richard would try to use your mother against you. She’s been ready for this for weeks.”
Of course she had.
Mara was always three steps ahead.
That was why I’d hired her.
That was why we were winning.
An hour later, we went back into the courtroom.
Voss looked like a broken man.
“Your Honor,” he said. “The defense rests.”
No closing argument.
No more witnesses.
Nothing.
He was done.
Judge Albright looked at him.
“Very well. The jury will hear closing arguments tomorrow morning at nine. And then they will begin deliberations. Court is adjourned.”
We walked out of the courthouse.
The sun was shining.
The reporters were shouting questions.
But for the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe.
It was almost over.
The next day, Mara gave her closing argument.
She was brilliant.
She walked the jury through every piece of evidence.
Chloe’s testimony.
The security footage.
The audio recordings.
The medical evidence.
The life insurance policy.
The witness tampering.
The blackmail.
The lies.
“Grant Holloway is a monster,” she said. “He beat his daughter. He planned to kill her for money. He tried to frame an innocent woman. And when that didn’t work, he tried to buy witnesses. He tried to blackmail them. He tried to lie, cheat, and steal his way to freedom. But the truth has a way of coming out. And the truth is, Grant Holloway is guilty. Guilty of aggravated child abuse. Guilty of attempted murder. Guilty of every single charge against him.”
She looked at the jury.
“Chloe Holloway has been through hell. She’s been beaten. She’s been threatened. She’s been called a liar. But she stood up. She told the truth. And now it’s your turn. It’s your turn to stand up for her. It’s your turn to give her justice. It’s your turn to make sure that Grant Holloway never hurts another child again. Find him guilty. Thank you.”
Voss gave the defense’s closing.
It was weak.
Half-hearted.
He talked about reasonable doubt.
He talked about lies and manipulation.
But no one was listening.
The jury knew the truth.
The judge gave them their instructions.
And then they filed out to deliberate.
We waited.
And waited.
And waited.
An hour.
Two hours.
Three.
I sat in the waiting room, my leg bouncing.
Chloe was on the phone with her psychologist, trying to stay calm.
Lila was holding my hand.
Mara was pacing.
At four o’clock, the bailiff came in.
“The jury has reached a verdict.”
My heart stopped.
We walked back into the courtroom.
Grant was led in.
He looked pale.
Nervous.
The jury filed in.
They wouldn’t look at Grant.
They looked at me.
They looked at Chloe, who’d come in to hear the verdict.
“Have you reached a verdict?” Judge Albright asked.
The foreman stood up.
“We have, Your Honor.”
“On the charge of aggravated child abuse, how do you find the defendant?”
The foreman took a deep breath.
“Guilty.”
The courtroom erupted.
“On the charge of attempted murder, how do you find the defendant?”
“Guilty.”
“On the charge of witness tampering, how do you find the defendant?”
“Guilty.”
I closed my eyes.
Tears ran down my face.
Chloe was sobbing, her face buried in Lila’s shoulder.
Mara squeezed my arm.
Grant stood there, stunned.
He looked at the jury.
He looked at his father, who was not in the courtroom.
He looked at me.
And for the first time, I saw real fear in his eyes.
Judge Albright banged his gavel for order.
“Sentencing will be held in four weeks. The defendant is remanded into custody immediately. Bail is revoked. Take him away.”
The bailiffs stepped forward.
They cuffed Grant.
He didn’t fight.
He didn’t scream.
He just stared at me.
As they led him out, our eyes met one last time.
And this time, there was no smile.
No threat.
Nothing.
Just defeat.
May you like
He was gone.
It was over.
