Georgia stood there, mouth hanging open, unable to make a sound.
"What's wrong? You don't remember?" I stepped closer. "Or did you never see it at all?"
"I… I was drunk at the time…" she stammered.
"Drunk, yet you remember he forced you?" My head tilted. "Drunk, yet you're absolutely certain the child is his?"
Alex exploded. "Anna Matthews! Stop trying to change the subject! The evidence is right there, and you're still trying to twist words?"
"A few blurry photos constitute a conviction?" I let out a dry laugh. "By that logic, if I snap a picture of you standing next to a woman on the street, I can claim you raped her?"
"You—!"
"Furthermore." My voice cut through his sputtering. "How did you obtain hotel surveillance footage? High-end hotels don't exactly hand out security tapes to random strangers."
His mouth opened. Closed. Nothing came out.
Georgia rushed to fill the silence. "My roommate… she helped me find connections…"
"Oh?" I swung my gaze to the girl still clutching the phone. "Does your family own the hotel chain? Or are you personal friends with the CEO?"
The roommate stared at the floor, shuffling her feet. "My… my cousin works there…"