“Mrs. Vance, was that the incident responsible for the wrist injury?”
“Yes.”
“And the shoulder?”
“Different day.”
I played another clip.
This one was shorter.
Daniel blocking the hallway.
Me trying to reach Robert’s office.
His voice low.
“Where is the original trust?”
“I told you. That is none of your business.”
“I’m your son.”
“You’re also forty-four years old. Stop behaving like an heir at a funeral.”
He shoved me.
Not violently enough to throw me across the room.
Just hard enough.
My shoulder struck the wall.
The sound made Vanessa flinch in court.
On the recording, Daniel immediately said, “Mom, why did you step backward like that?”
That sentence mattered.
He had begun creating his defense before I even recovered my balance.
Judge Mercer understood.
I could see it in his eyes.
So could Curtis.
His face had gone rigid.
“Your Honor,” Curtis said, “I need a brief recess to speak with my client.”
“Not yet.”
Judge Mercer looked at me.
“The injury above your eyebrow.”
I swallowed.
