Chapter 14 - The Black Briefcase
The briefcase was reopened under warrant.
Investigators found a concealed lower panel.
Inside were medications, syringes, tubing, and falsified medical documentation.
Prosecutors argued that the materials supported their allegation that Victor had prepared to make my death appear medically plausible.
The discovery changed the atmosphere of the trial.
Victor's defense argued there were innocent explanations for some items and challenged the government's interpretation.
But then investigators found fingerprints.
Victor's.
And purchase records.
Marcus testified that Victor had discussed making my death appear connected to surgical complications.
I remembered him kneeling beside me.
Black gloves.
Oxygen mask in his hand.
Briefcase beside his knee.
He hadn't entered that bedroom merely hoping I would sign.
He had prepared for the possibility that I wouldn't.
That realization broke something inside me.
Not fear.
The final remaining piece of childhood.
After court, Rosa found me sitting alone.
“You okay?”
“No.”
She sat beside me.
“Good.”
I stared at her.
She smiled sadly.
“You don't have to be okay every minute to be strong.”
I laughed despite myself.
“That sounds like Mom.”
“She stole it from me.”
That made me laugh harder.
For the first time since the murders, laughter didn't feel like betrayal.
It felt like survival.
Two days later, closing arguments began.
The prosecution laid out the chronology.
Financial theft.
Discovery.
Threats.
Murder arrangements.
Attempted control of the estate.
The bedroom confession.
The defense argued that cooperating witnesses had incentives to lie and challenged parts of the government's theory.
Then the jury left.
Hours passed.
Then a day.
Then another.
On the third afternoon, the courtroom clerk entered.
The jury had reached a verdict.
Victor looked at me.
May you like
For once, there was no smile.
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