Chapter 2 - The Prosecutor’s Trap
The darkness that threatened to pull me under was heavy, but the analytical, cold-blooded precision of a Senior Prosecutor kept my mind tethered to reality. Rose thought she was a master of the stage, but she had forgotten that I spent my life dismantling the amateur dramatics of sociopaths.
As Ethan lifted me, sobbing my name, and Mara screamed at the venue staff to lock the doors, I forced my eyes to stay open. I looked directly at Kyle’s phone camera. I needed the world to see the blood, the weapon, and the chilling, calculating lack of empathy in my mother’s eyes before she switched to her victim act.
"Ethan..." I choked out, tasting iron. "The... the hidden lapel..."
Ethan’s eyes widened. He knew. We both knew the depths of my mother’s greed. Three days before the baby shower, Rose had threatened to "do whatever it takes" if I didn't hand over the $50,000 medical fund—a fund set aside because my baby girl had been diagnosed in utero with a rare cardiac condition requiring immediate surgery upon birth. Knowing Rose and Kyle would corner me, I had worn a high-end, disguised body-cam brooch disguised as a silver floral pin on my maternity dress. It was streaming live to a secure cloud server managed by my colleague at the District Attorney's office.
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The ambulance arrived within seven minutes, the sirens wailing like a death knell. As the paramedics rushed me out on a gurney, Rose was already weeping to a sympathetic looking older guest, claiming I had been suffering from "severe prenatal psychosis" and had swung the iron rod at her first. Kyle was nodding right along, offering to show the police his "edited" video footage.
They thought they had won. They thought the court of public opinion, combined with family loyalty, would shield them. But as the oxygen mask was placed over my face and the ambulance doors slammed shut, I whispered a vow to my unborn daughter: Hold on, my love. Mommy is going to put them in a cage.
