Chapter 14
Chapter 14: The Deposition
The conference room at Rebecca Vance’s office was suffocatingly tense. Patricia sat across the long oak table, dressed in an immaculate cream-colored suit, looking like the picture of a grieving, dignified grandmother. Her lawyer, Arthur Pendelton, sat next to her, looking smug. Lauren sat beside Ethan, her posture rigid. She had spent the last week practicing how to control her breathing. “Let’s begin,” Pendelton said, turning on the recorder. “Mrs. Miller, please state for the record why you believe your grandson is in an unsafe environment.” Patricia sighed beautifully, looking directly at the camera.
“My daughter-in-law, Lauren, suffers from severe emotional instability. On the night of October 14th, my son was away. I came over to help, and Lauren flew into a manic rage. She locked me and my daughter Melissa out of the house in the freezing cold, screaming obscenities, all while my grandson Noah was burning with a fever. She refused to take him to the doctor out of sheer spite.” Lauren’s breath hitched, but she kept her jaw locked. Ethan felt a cold, dark calmness settle over him. Pendelton smirked.
“We also have an affidavit from a witness who saw Mrs. Lauren Miller consuming alcohol excessively during her third trimester at a establishment called The Rusty Anchor.” Ethan leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. He didn't look at Pendelton. He looked straight at his mother. “Are you done lying, Mom?” Ethan asked smoothly. “Ethan, please,” Patricia said, her voice dripping with fake pity.
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“I know she’s manipulating you. I’m doing this to save you, too.” Rebecca Vance smiled, pulling a laptop out of her bag. “Mr. Pendelton, before we proceed to my client's statement, I’d like to introduce Exhibit A into the record. It’s an audio file recorded on May 12th in Patricia Miller’s home.” Patricia’s smug look flickered. Rebecca hit play.
Patricia’s voice boomed from the speakers: ‘...I don’t care if it’s true, Arthur! Find some trash on her. Pay that boy from the diner five hundred dollars to say she was drinking. If we make enough noise, the judge will have to grant me visitation just to keep the peace...’ The room turned to ice. Absolute, suffocating ice. Arthur Pendelton instantly reached over and slammed the laptop shut, his face turning a deep, panicked shade of red. He looked at Patricia, whose face had gone completely white. “Where... where did you get that?” Patricia stammered, her regal facade shattering into a million pieces. Ethan leaned across the table, his eyes boring into hers. “Your empire is over, Mom.”
