Chapter 33: The Defence
507 words
Sterling stood, smoothing his silk tie as if brushing off the image of Sarah freezing in her car. The horrified silence of the courtroom didn't seem to touch him. He moved with the arrogance of a man who believed money could rewrite reality.
"The defense calls Dr. Aris Thorne."
A man with silver hair and a fifty-dollar haircut took the stand. He projected an air of unassailable authority, speaking with the clinical detachment of a dissection.
"The fetal anomalies were tragic, yes," Thorne said, turning his charm on the jury while pointedly ignoring Sarah. "But my analysis suggests maternal lifestyle choices were the primary catalyst. Severe malnutrition. Stress hormones. Cheap, processed foods high in sodium."
He paused, offering a pitying smile. "Mrs. Blackwood simply... didn't take care of herself. The vessel was compromised."
Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. Her hands shook violently under the table. He was blaming her poverty. The poverty Julian had engineered to destroy her.
"She was living in a car, Doctor," Marcus said, rising slowly from his chair. His voice was dangerously low. "Hard to cook organic meals on a dashboard."
"Poverty is unfortunate," Thorne sniffed, adjusting his glasses. "But biology is unforgiving."
Marcus walked to the projector. He didn't look angry anymore. He looked like a wolf who had just cornered a wounded deer.
"You testified that the specific liver damage in the infant was caused by 'dietary toxins.' Is that correct?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
Marcus slapped a thick, red-tabbed file onto the witness stand. The sound cracked like a gunshot.
"Then strict logic would suggest this damage is common in low-income pregnancies. Yet, this specific enzymatic scarring only appears in one other demographic."
Marcus leaned in until he was inches from Thorne’s face. "Lab rats dosed with Blackwood Pharmaceutical’s 'SlimGuard' in 2018."
Thorne blinked rapidly. A single bead of sweat rolled down his temple, betraying his composure.
"That—that data is proprietary," Thorne stammered, looking toward the defense table for help.
"It was," Marcus corrected, a shark-like grin spreading across his face. "Until the judge unsealed it ten minutes ago."
Marcus pulled a single sheet of paper from his pocket—a bank transfer record. He held it up, letting the fluorescent lights catch the bold figures.
"Dr. Thorne, your standard expert witness fee is five thousand dollars a day. Can you explain why a shell company linked to Julian Blackwood wired you two hundred thousand dollars last Tuesday?"
The courtroom went dead silent. The air was sucked out of the room. Thorne looked at Julian. Julian refused to meet his eyes, staring fixedly at his manicured fingernails.
"I..." Thorne’s voice cracked. He loosened his tie, panicking. "It was a bonus. For... prioritizing the case."
"A bonus for accuracy?" Marcus roared, slamming his hand on the railing so hard the wood groaned. "Or a bonus for a lie?"
Thorne slumped, his arrogance evaporating into pure terror. "They told me you wouldn't find the rat study! I just said what I was paid to say!"
End of Chapter 33
