CHAPTER 50: THE HYPOCRITE EXPOSED-2
My breath stills. I feet the trap getting ready to snap shut around me.
“No,” I admit, and I can feel the case slipping away with that single word. “I-I didn’t think about documentation. I still considered him my husband. I-I didn’t want to make him angrier. He- I loved him-”
“So there’s no physical evidence,” Elder James interrupts. “No third-party verification. No testimony from medical professionals who treated your injuries. We have just… your word.” There is a small chuckle in the
last part.
“Yes, but the word of someone who survived-”
‘The word of someone who has already been proven to lie,” Elder James cuts in, and his voice sharpens into something cruel. “The word of someone who fabricated a fated mate claim to deceive this council. The word of someone who entered into a transactional sexual arrangement and then tried to dress it up as destiny. Given that context, Omega Crawford, why should anyone in this chamber believe anything you
say?”
The question hangs in the air like a guillotine blade.
don’t have an answer. I don’t have anything except my truth, and my truth isn’t worth anything anymore.
‘Perhaps,” Elder James continues, settling back in his chair with the satisfaction of a cat playing with prey, ‘we should hear from someone who knows you better than anyone. Someone who can provide context for your… behavioral patterns.”
A figure stands in the gallery.
My mother.
Her expression is carefully constructed concern, the kind of maternal worry that looks genuine if you don’t know her well enough to see the conniving snake underneath
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