Chapter 6 - The Deposition
Two months later, the civil suit we filed alongside the state’s criminal charges brought us to a sterile, well-lit conference room in downtown Hanoi—where Eleanor’s high-priced defense attorney had requested a formal deposition. Eleanor sat across the mahogany table, looking drastically different from the glamorous matriarch at the bistro. She wore a plain, dark gray pantsuit, her silver hair was tied back in a simple clasp, and she wore no jewelry. Victoria sat beside her, nervously chewing on her thumbnail, avoiding eye contact with Thomas at all costs.
Eleanor’s lawyer, a slick man named Mr. Vance (no relation, just a coincidence of corporate law), spent the first hour attempting to dismantle our parenting, asking condescending questions about Chloe's behavior and trying to establish that our daughter was prone to lying or wandering off. I answered every question with cold, measured precision, refusing to take the emotional bait.
Then our attorney, a brilliant woman named Ms. Chen, took the floor to cross-examine Victoria, who had been subpoenaed as a witness to the morning's events.
"Mrs. Claire," Ms. Chen said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. "In your sworn written statement to the police, you claimed that your mother explicitly told you that Chloe had been left with a station attendant in a secure office. Is that correct?"
Victoria swallowed hard, glancing at her mother before nodding weakly. "Yes. That's what Mother told me when we walked into the shopping plaza. She said Chloe was resting in the security office."
Ms. Chen clicked a button on her laptop, connecting it to the conference room monitor. "Interesting. Because we enhanced the audio from the transit station security cameras using a forensic sound lab. Let's listen to what you actually said at 1:02 PM, exactly two minutes after Chloe was left on the bench."
The audio was scratchy, but the voices were unmistakably clear over the station's background noise: Victoria's voice: "Mom, should we really leave her out there? What if she wanders off into the street?" Eleanor's voice: "Let her sit in the dirt like a little beggar. If she wants to embarrass me by whining about her feet, she can learn what happens when she doesn't obey. Don't look back, Victoria. I'm buying you that Prada bag you wanted." Victoria's voice, followed by a light laugh: "Okay, fine. But if Sarah gets mad, you're dealing with her."
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The conference room descended into absolute, suffocating silence. Victoria’s face drained of blood, turning the color of chalk. She covered her mouth with her hand, realizing she had just been caught committing perjury in a sworn statement.
"You didn't think she was in a security office, did you, Victoria?" Ms. Chen asked, her voice cutting through the room like a scalpel. "You traded your seven-year-old niece's safety for a designer handbag. No further questions for this witness."
