Chapter 9 - The Final Witness
The prosecution had one last surprise that the defense never saw coming.
The massive wooden doors at the back of the courtroom swung open.
A nurse wheeled in a wheelchair.
It was Chloe.
James physically recoiled in his chair, his attorney turning pale.
They had argued that Chloe was too medically fragile to testify.
But she had insisted.
She was hooked up to a portable oxygen tank, but her eyes were fiercely lucid.
When she took the stand, the entire courtroom held its breath.
“Can you identify the man who held you captive?” the prosecutor asked gently.
Chloe raised her thin, scarred arm and pointed a shaking finger directly at James.
“He is the devil,” she said, her voice raspy but echoing through the microphone.
“He told me no one cared about a junkie.”
“He said he was recycling my useless life for profit.”
Tears streamed down the faces of several jurors.
She detailed the horrors of the basement, the lack of food, and the constant blood draws.
She explained how he forged medical records to claim insurance payouts for treatments she never received.
The defense didn't even attempt a cross-examination.
It would be professional suicide to attack a frail victim on the stand.
James suddenly stood up, ignoring his lawyer's frantic whispers.
“She’s lying!” James screamed, losing the last shred of his composure.
“I gave you a roof! I kept you off the streets!”
The judge banged his gavel furiously. “Bailiff, restrain the defendant!”
James was forcibly pushed back into his seat, panting heavily.
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He had just confessed his involvement in front of the entire jury.
The trial was effectively over.
