Chapter 7 - The Depositions
The conference room on the tenth floor of the downtown law firm smelled of fresh paper, stale coffee, and impending reckoning. Victoria Vance sat at the head of the mahogany table, looking like an apex predator waiting for her cue.
Phyllis entered the room flanked by her attorney—a slick, aggressive litigator who clearly underestimated the mountain of evidence Marcus and Victoria had compiled. Phyllis wore her Sunday best, her chin held high, radiating an aura of untouchable self-righteousness. She didn't even glance at Marcus or Clara as she took her seat across the table.
"Let’s keep this brief," Phyllis’s attorney began smoothly. "My client is an elderly matriarch who simply attempted to maintain domestic standards during an unexpected medical inconvenience. The exaggerated claims of abuse and forgery are baseless—"
Victoria held up a single sheet of paper, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"Counsel," Victoria said coolly, "before you commit your client to a perjury trap, I suggest you review Exhibit A through G." She slid a dossier across the table.
Inside were not just the forty-seven-second video and the forged deed from the West Texas ranch, but sworn affidavits from three former home-care nurses Phyllis had hired—and subsequently fired under suspicious circumstances—detailing years of systematic intimidation and elder neglect directed at Marcus’s late father.
Phyllis’s color drained instantly. She snatched the folder, her eyes darting across the medical logs and bank transfer receipts. Her hands began to tremble.
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"Where... where did you get these?" Phyllis whispered, her invincible facade cracking down the middle.
"From the man who loved his son enough to leave a paper trail," Marcus said softly from across the table, his voice steady and devoid of the fear he had carried for thirty years. "It’s over, Mother. The control ends today."
