Chapter 13 - The Eve of the Trial
The highly anticipated night before the trial officially began, Marcus’s desperate lawyer made one final, pathetic attempt to settle the case out of court. He nervously offered guilty pleas in exchange for flat ten-year sentences and the full return of all the stolen offshore funds.
I took the insulting offer to my superiors at the DOJ, but I already knew exactly what the answer would be. “We formally reject it,” I told the defense attorney over the phone, my voice dripping with disdain. “My mother wants her promised day in court. Your monstrous client tied an eighty-year-old woman to a bed frame. Let’s see what twelve angry jurors think of that.”
I spent the entire night intensely prepping my opening statements, fueled by black coffee and sheer righteous anger. This wasn’t just a regular case anymore; it was a deeply personal crusade. I was fighting for every vulnerable, terrified senior citizen who had ever been silenced, abused, and robbed by the limitless greed of their own family members.
