"Are you saying my father's injuries are fabricated too? Do you even hear yourself? You think I'd risk my own father's life to frame you?"
After shouting those words, he swiped roughly at the tears on his face and glared at the judge.
"I have one more piece of evidence. Enough to prove that car was driven by her grandfather!"
He clapped his hands, and within moments a woman was escorted in.
The instant I saw who it was, my brow furrowed. I never expected Michael to bring her as a witness.
The woman stepped forward, glanced around the courtroom, and the moment her eyes landed on me, she looked away.
"I'm the one who registered the plates for that car."
"On the day in question, the defendant's grandfather came to my office to get the plates processed."
"I could tell he was getting on in years, so I even reminded him to drive carefully on the road. Who could've imagined..."
Sharon Lambert trailed off, but the gallery had already erupted.
The crowd cursed in fury, convinced the case was settled, heaping every ounce of blame onto me.
"There you have it! Witness testimony AND physical evidence. Is she still going to deny it?"