Chapter 8
The news exploded that evening.
"Family remanded into custody after hearing reveals history of violence and cover-ups."
"Audio recording captures fatal attack on pregnant woman."
"Parents paid off victims to protect violent daughter, witnesses testify."
Every news outlet in Denver picked up the story.
It spread nationally within hours.
People were horrified.
Furious.
Disgusted.
The court of public opinion had already rendered its verdict.
And George, Patricia, and Megan were guilty.
Their friends and neighbors started calling and texting.
Not to offer support.
To express their outrage.
To say they had always known something was wrong with Megan.
To say they had never trusted George.
People who had sat in that courtroom judging me just hours earlier were now falling over themselves to condemn my family.
I found it pathetic.
But also satisfying.
Their perfect reputation was in tatters.
Everyone now knew what they were.
Monsters.
Harold Whitmore filed a motion to reconsider bail.
The judge denied it.
They would stay in jail until their trial.
Marcus told me this was a huge advantage for us.
"Jail changes people," he said. "They're going to start turning on each other. Watch. One of them will flip. Probably Patricia. She's not going to want to do hard time. She'll give up George and Megan to save herself."
I hoped he was right.
I wanted to see them destroy each other.
A week later, it started happening.
Patricia filed a motion to have separate counsel.
She claimed there was a conflict of interest.
That George and Megan were planning to blame everything on her.
Marcus was right.
The rats were turning on each other.
George responded by filing his own motion.
He claimed Patricia had orchestrated the entire cover-up.
That he had just gone along with it to keep the peace.
Megan's new lawyer filed a motion claiming that Megan was mentally ill.
That her parents had enabled her condition.
That they were the real villains.
It was beautiful.
They were tearing each other apart without us even having to do anything.
We just sat back and watched.
Meanwhile, the civil case moved forward.
We got permission to depose all three of them in jail.
I wanted to be there.
Nathan tried to talk me out of it.
"Emily, you don't have to see them. Let Marcus and the team handle it."
"I need to be there," I said. "I need to see their faces when they realize there's no way out."
The depositions were held in a small conference room at the jail.
Patricia went first.
She looked terrible.
Jail had not been kind to her.
Her hair was a mess.
Her expensive clothes were gone, replaced by an orange jumpsuit.
She looked old.
Tired.
Broken.
Marcus started with simple questions.
Name.
Address.
Relationship to the plaintiff.
Then he moved to the attack.
"Mrs. Collins, did you see your daughter Megan kick your daughter Emily in the stomach on the day in question?"
Patricia looked at her lawyer.
"I object," her lawyer said. "My client asserts her Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination."
Marcus smiled.
He had expected this.
He asked question after question.
About the attack.
About the cover-up.
About the false police report.
About paying off Daniel Kim.
About paying off Robert Henderson.
About the fraud.
Patricia took the Fifth on every single one.
It was a standard legal strategy.
But it looked terrible.
And in a civil case, the jury was allowed to draw an adverse inference from her refusal to answer.
Then it was George's turn.
He was angry.
Defiant.
Still convinced he was in control.
"Mr. Collins," Marcus said, "did you take your son-in-law's phone to prevent him from calling an ambulance for your injured daughter?"
George leaned forward.
"That was a misunderstanding. Nathan was being irrational. I was trying to calm the situation."
"Was Emily bleeding when you blocked the door?"
"She had a small cut on her head. Nothing serious."
"Nothing serious? She was twelve weeks pregnant. Your grandchild. And she was bleeding heavily from the abdomen. You saw that, didn't you?"
George's face tightened.
"I didn't see anything like that."
Marcus played the recording.
The part where Nathan shouted that I was pregnant and bleeding.
The part where Patricia said calling an ambulance would ruin Megan's future.
George's jaw clenched.
"Do you deny that those are your wife's words?"
"She was upset. She didn't mean them."
"Did you block the door to prevent Nathan from leaving with Emily?"
"I was standing in the doorway. That's all."
"Did you slam into the wall when Nathan charged you?"
"He attacked me! He's a violent man!"
Marcus smiled again.
He pulled out the medical records from the hospital.
"Mr. Collins, you were examined by paramedics after your arrest. You had a bruised shoulder. That's all. Nathan, on the other hand, had cuts on his hands from carrying Emily, from breaking glass, from fighting to get her to safety. Does that sound like a man who was the aggressor?"
George had no answer.
Then Megan.
She was the one I really wanted to see.
She walked in, chains around her wrists and ankles.
She looked at me.
And for the first time, I saw something in her eyes that I had never seen before.
Defeat.
She knew she was beaten.
Marcus started slowly.
"Megan, did you kick your sister in the stomach on the day in question?"
She looked at her lawyer.
Then she looked at me.
And she smiled.
It was a small, cold smile.
"Yes," she said.
The room went silent.
Her lawyer looked shocked.
He had clearly told her to take the Fifth.
But Megan didn't care.
"You kicked her?" Marcus asked, recovering quickly.
"Yes."
"Did you intend to hurt her?"
Megan's eyes never left mine.
"I intended to kill the baby."
I felt Nathan's hand tighten on mine under the table.
"Why?" Marcus asked.
"Because it was hers," Megan said. "Everything is always hers. The good grades. The successful career. The perfect husband. I wanted to take something from her. Something that would hurt more than anything else."
She leaned forward slightly, the chains rattling.
"And it worked, didn't it? The baby's dead. And even if I go to prison, I still won. Because I took something from her that she can never get back."
The room was dead silent.
I stared at her.
This woman who shared my blood.
Who had hated me so much that she would kill an innocent baby just to hurt me.
I felt Nathan start to stand up.
I pulled him back down.
"Don't," I whispered. "She wants a reaction. Don't give her one."
Marcus recovered and finished the deposition.
But it was over.
Megan had confessed.
On the record.
Under oath.
She had admitted to intentionally killing my baby.
And she had shown absolutely no remorse.
When the deposition ended and they led Megan away, she looked back at me one last time.
She still had that cold smile on her face.
But I wasn't afraid of her anymore.
I wasn't even angry.
Not really.
Because I knew something she didn't.
Her confession had just made the civil case unlosable.
And when we were done, she would spend decades in prison.
And her parents would lose everything.
She thought she had won.
May you like
But she was wrong.
So very wrong.
