Chapter 4 - The Trial of Shadows
Three months later, the preliminary hearing began at the Franklin County Courthouse.
The atmosphere inside the courtroom was thick with tension. Photographers and reporters crowded the gallery, eager to cover the trial of the "Monster of Columbus." I sat on the front bench on the prosecution’s side, flanked by Detective Miller and a victim advocate.
Across the room sat Caleb Ross.
He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, his hair trimmed, looking impossibly calm. He didn't look like a monster; he looked like a quiet, handsome middle-aged man. That was what made him so utterly terrifying. Beside him sat Julian Vance, a stern man with graying hair and sharp, cold eyes.
The prosecutor, an aggressive woman named Rachel Cole, presented the initial evidence: the forced ingestion of peanut oil, the bruises on Lily’s skin, the false identity papers, and the paramedic’s eyewitness account.
When it was time for the defense to cross-examine, Julian Vance stood up. He walked slowly toward the podium, adjusting his rimless glasses.
"Your Honor," Vance began, his voice echoing in the quiet courtroom. "The defense moves to dismiss the physical evidence gathered from the house on the night of the arrest."
Rachel Cole sprang up. "On what grounds, Your Honor?"
"On the grounds of illegal entry," Vance said calmly. "The paramedics entered the house under a medical emergency call. However, the search conducted by officers immediately afterward was done without a signed warrant. The briefcase containing the cash and passports was seized in violation of the Fourth Amendment."
A murmur rippled through the gallery. My heart plummeted into my shoes.
"Furthermore," Vance continued, turning his cold gaze directly toward me, "my client maintains that Mrs. Elena Hale suffered from severe postpartum psychosis and fatigue, leading her to misinterpret her husband's discipline techniques. It was Mrs. Hale who bought the peanut oil weeks prior."
"Objection!" Cole yelled. "This is victim blaming without a shred of foundation!"
"Overruled for now," the judge said sternly. "Mr. Vance, present your evidence or sit down."
Vance smiled thinly. "I intend to present a witness who will prove that my client was set up."
During the court recess, I paced the hallway in a panic. Detective Miller found me by the water fountain. "Elena, calm down. Vance is playing mind games. He's trying to rattle you so you look unstable on the stand."
"Why is he doing this?" I demanded, my hands shaking. "Caleb killed his nephew! Why is Clara's brother defending him?!"
Miller leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "We just ran a financial background check on Julian Vance. His law firm was going bankrupt three months ago. Suddenly, two weeks after Caleb’s arrest, an offshore account in the Cayman Islands transferred two million dollars to Vance's firm."
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I gasped. "Caleb bought him."
"Caleb didn't just buy him," Miller said grimly. "Caleb had blackmail on Vance. We don't know what it is yet, but Vance isn't defending Caleb out of loyalty. He's defending him because Caleb holds something over his head that could destroy him."
