Chapter 6 - The Deposition and the Unravelling
Two weeks before the formal court trial in Travis County District Court, Marcus Vance scheduled formal depositions for Denise Carter, Mark Morgan, and Amber Carter. Under Texas law, these under-oath proceedings were recorded on video and transcribed for evidence.
Mark Morgan was the first to take the stand in Marcus's conference room. Clad in an expensive tailored suit bought on credit, Mark tried to maintain his polished startup founder persona. But Marcus was relentless.
“Mr. Morgan,” Marcus began, placing a thick binder on the table. “In your sworn affidavit filed with the family court, you state under penalty of perjury that you have maintained continuous personal contact with your daughter, Lily Morgan, over the last twenty-four months. Is that correct?”
“Yes, absolutely,” Mark replied confidently. “I have visited her regularly and monitored her development closely.”
Marcus pulled out a document. “These are your cell phone location records, flight histories, and credit card transactions subpoenaed from the last two years. According to these certified records, you have been in Texas exactly once in two years—for four hours on a layover in Dallas. Furthermore, cell tower logs show you have not made a single phone call or video chat to Rachel Morgan's residence since August 2024.”
Mark's face went crimson. He glanced frantically at his attorney, who looked equally panicked. “I... I meant I kept tabs on her through her grandmother,” Mark stammered.
“Through Denise Carter?” Marcus asked smoothly. “The same Denise Carter to whom you promised a $300,000 payout from Lily's trust fund upon successful removal of Rachel Morgan as legal guardian?” Marcus produced printed email records detailing the exact payment structure.
Mark opened his mouth, closed it, and buried his face in his hands. His lawyer immediately interjected: “We are taking a fifteen-minute recess!”
Next was Denise Carter. She arrived wearing a black dress, attempting to project the image of a grieving, mistreated matriarch. But when Marcus played the audio recording of the 911 call on the conference room speakers, her mask shattered.
“Mrs. Carter,” Marcus asked, pointing at the audio transcript. “Did you, or did you not, state to the 911 operator that a five-year-old child was threatening you with a sharp weapon?”
“I believed she was!” Denise snapped, her composure slipping into venomous anger. “She was out of control! Rachel is raising her to be a monster!”
“The responding officer's certified report states the object was a pink plastic toy hairbrush measuring four inches,” Marcus countered. “Is it your testimony under oath that you felt physically threatened by a four-inch plastic hairbrush held by a thirty-five-pound five-year-old?”
“She has bad blood!” Denise screamed, losing all self-control. “She's just like her father! She needed to be put away before she destroyed this family! Rachel was supposed to give us our fair share of the money! That trust belonged to my family!”
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Marcus looked directly at the video camera recording the deposition. “Let the record reflect that the witness has admitted her motivation was financial extraction from the minor child's trust fund.”
Denise realized her catastrophic error too late. She sank back into her chair, her breathing ragged, knowing her own words had sealed her fate.
