Chapter 5 - The Testimony of the Walls
The courtroom lights were dimmed, and a massive projection screen lowered from the stone ceiling.
The video that appeared on the screen was high-definition, shot from a wide-angle lens that captured the entire expanse of the Ashford estate's kitchen. The timestamp in the corner read Thursday, 7:14 p.m.—just twenty-four hours before Daniel’s return.
On screen, Lily was sitting on the marble floor, her small body curled into a tight, defensive ball beneath the breakfast island. Her hair was long then, falling in soft curls around her shoulders.
Kate stood over her, holding a pair of heavy kitchen scissors in her hand. Her face was flushed, her mouth twisted into a snarl that looked entirely different from the gentle, sympathetic mask she wore at the defense table.
"You think you can keep looking at me with those eyes, Lily?" Kate’s voice came through the high-fidelity speakers, loud, clear, and vibrating with a sharp, psychotic venom. "You think because your father has money, you can look like her? You’re just a parasite in this house. Just like your mother was. Your mother didn't love you. That’s why she died. She wanted to get away from you."
A collective gasp went through the gallery. Several reporters in the back row stood up, their fingers flying across their tablets as they recorded the testimony.
On screen, Lily didn't scream. She didn't cry. She merely held her hands over her face as Kate grabbed her by the hair, dragging her toward the sink, and began to hack at her curls with the heavy metal blades.
"I'm going to make sure he doesn't recognize you when he comes back," Kate hissed, tossing the cut hair onto the marble floor. "And if you say a single word to him, I’ll lock Owen in the basement. I’ll make sure he doesn't get a single drop of water for a week. Do you understand me?"
Lily nodded her head, her body shaking with a silent, rhythmic sob that made the entire courtroom go entirely still.
The video ended, the screen returning to a blank, white glow that reflected off Kate’s pale, sweat-streaked face.
"My god," Judge Ross whispered, her hand trembling as she set down her glasses. She looked from the screen to Kate Morrison, her eyes carrying a cold, sharp disgust that no expensive attorney could ever counter.
"Your Honor," Richard Ramos stammered, his voice losing every ounce of its smooth, professional arrogance. "My client... my client was under extreme emotional duress. The pressure of caring for—"
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"Be quiet, Mr. Ramos," Judge Ross said, her voice dropping to a level that made the entire courtroom freeze. "As of this moment, bail is denied. The defendant will be transferred to the Cook County jail immediately, pending a full trial for felony child abuse, unlawful restraint, and corporate embezzlement."
As the marshals stepped forward to place the heavy steel handcuffs around Kate’s wrists, she looked toward the gallery, her eyes locking onto Daniel’s face. She didn't look like a teacher anymore; she looked like a cornered animal, her lips bared in a silent, desperate snarl as they dragged her through the heavy iron side door.
