Chapter 10
The trials were separated.
Edmund first.
Then Victoria.
Then Dr. Price and the others.
Prosecutors said it would help juries follow the crimes.
I thought no jury could truly follow a man like my father.
How do you explain a grandfather who visits a hidden child and calls it family management?
How do you explain a wife who comforts her husband at a fake funeral while knowing his son is behind the wall?
You show evidence.
So we did.
The first day in court, Edmund looked regal.
Tailored suit.
Silver cane.
No remorse.
Victoria sat behind him, awaiting her own trial, eyes fixed on the floor.
Hannah held Elise’s hand.
I held Oliver’s.
He did not testify in person.
The judge allowed recorded testimony.
The courtroom watched my son describe the chamber.
The small vent.
The food trays.
The threats.
The recorder.
When asked why he hid it, Oliver said, “Because if I died, I wanted Father to know I didn’t leave him.”
I broke then.
Quietly.
Edmund did not.
He stared at the screen like Oliver had inconvenienced him.
Elise testified next.
Her voice trembled but held.
She named the facility.
The drugs.
Edmund’s visits.
My brother’s death.
Then Hannah testified.
“I grew up mourning a mother who was alive because my grandfather loved control more than truth.”
Edmund’s lawyer tried to call her bitter.
May you like
Hannah looked at the jury.
“Yes,” she said. “Truth often makes people bitter before it makes them free.”
