Chapter 12 - The Father's Reckoning
My dad’s face turned an unhealthy shade of purple as his own daughter threw him under the bus to save herself from criminal liability.
"That is a complete lie!" my father thundered, slamming his palm onto the conference table. "I never ordered you to lock anyone in a room!"
"You did!" Sarah screamed back, her professional composure entirely gone. "You said Michael was raising a weak child, and you told me to fix it!"
Mark calmly pressed a button on his recording device. "Thank you both. That statement is now entered into the official record for the court."
My dad turned his glaring eyes toward me, breathing heavily. "You satisfied now, Michael? You've turned your own sister against me. You've dragged our family name through the dirt. Is this what your late mother would have wanted?"
"Don't you dare bring Mom into this," I said, leaning over the table, looking him dead in the eyes. "You threw a heavy ceramic mug directly at my head while I was holding my terrified daughter. You could have cracked her skull."
"I missed!" he yelled stupidly.
"Because I dodged," I fired back. "The prosecutor has already upgraded your charges to attempted assault with a deadly weapon and reckless endangerment of a minor. You aren't going to buy your way out of this one, Dad."
His attorney leaned over and whispered urgently into my father’s ear, forcing him to sit back down in his chair. The old man looked suddenly very old, very small, and entirely powerless.
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For twenty years, he had ruled our family with iron-fisted financial control and emotional manipulation. In less than twenty minutes, his empire of fear had completely disintegrated.
"We are taking this to trial," Mark said, closing his folder with a heavy snap. "Gentlemen, we will see you in court."
