Chapter 13 - The Deposition
Four weeks later, we sat in the formal conference room of Victoria Vance’s law firm for Julian and Evelyn’s mandatory sworn depositions. The atmosphere was positively arctic. Julian sat across the mahogany table looking like a ghost of his former self; he had lost weight, his dark suit hung loosely on his shoulders, and his eyes were darting nervously around the room. Beside him sat Evelyn, wearing a neck brace—a pathetic, last-ditch attempt to garner physical sympathy—and glaring at me with unbridled malice.
Their court-appointed legal aid attorney—since Julian’s funds were frozen and he couldn't afford a high-priced litigator—looked exhausted and deeply embarrassed to be in the room.
Victoria began with Evelyn. “Mrs. Vance, let’s discuss your chronic medical conditions. You claimed under oath in your preliminary affidavit that you required your son to provide you with specialized bone broth due to severe, debilitating rheumatoid arthritis and cardiovascular wasting. Is that correct?”
“Yes!” Evelyn snapped, adjusting her neck brace dramatically. “My body is frail! I am a senior citizen who was wasting away while my son was being alienated from me!”
Victoria didn't blink. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a certified medical file obtained via court order from Evelyn’s primary care physician. “Then how do you explain your primary care doctor’s notes from your annual physical dated just two weeks before the incident? I quote: ‘Patient is in excellent physical health for her age. Zero joint inflammation detected. Cardiovascular function is optimal. Patient inquired about trendy collagen peptide diets for cosmetic skin rejuvenation.’”
Evelyn’s face flushed a deep, ugly magenta. Her lawyer whispered frantically into her ear, but she waved him off, her narcissistic rage boiling over. “Doctors don't know everything! I know what my body needs! That infant gets all the attention while I am left to rot in a townhouse! Julian is my son! He belongs to me first, not to some demanding woman and a crying baby!”
Victoria turned her attention smoothly to Julian, whose head was buried in his hands. “Mr. Vance, your mother just admitted under oath that she was not medically frail, but rather jealous of the care your post-operative infant was receiving. Did you know she was not medically ill when you stole your son’s prescribed dietary food?”
“I... I just wanted to keep the peace,” Julian mumbled, his voice breaking as the court reporter’s fingers flew across the stenotype machine. “She wouldn't stop crying and calling me every night. She said if I didn't bring her the broth, it meant I didn't love her anymore. I was stressed! I was trying to make everyone happy!”
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“By starving your three-year-old surgical patient son?” Victoria asked sharply. “Is that your definition of keeping the peace, Mr. Vance?”
Julian had no answer. He just sat there, weeping silently into his palms while his mother glared at him in absolute contempt for failing to defend her.
