“I left because Tiffany sent me photos of my own nursery and told me it looked better without me in it,” I added. The room was so quiet you could hear the clock ticking on the wall behind the judge’s head.
“The evidence of those messages is right here in the file,” the judge said while cutting off Tiffany’s attempt to lie. Tiffany sat down as if the strength had been drained from her legs, and Harrison stared at me with a look of pure hatred.
He was not angry because I was lying, but because I had finally found the courage to tell the truth in public. The doors opened again, and Simon Fletcher walked into the room with his tie loosened and a visible bruise on his cheekbone.
He apologized for the delay and explained that someone had intentionally blocked his car in the parking garage that morning. He also reported that his mobile phone had been stolen from his desk while he was speaking with a client.
“I have the courier receipts and copies of the emails your assistant sent to delay my arrival,” Simon said while looking directly at Harrison. Harrison tried to laugh it off as a ridiculous conspiracy theory, but his voice was thin and unconvincing.