Chapter 6
The trial began when I was seven months pregnant.
I was huge.
Uncomfortable.
Tired.
But I was determined.
The courtroom was packed.
Reporters.
Members of Linda's family.
Supporters on both sides.
Linda walked in wearing a nice dress her attorney had brought her.
Her hair was done.
She looked like a respectable grandmother.
Not a woman who'd tried to kill two innocent babies.
The prosecution went first.
They called the doctor who'd treated me in the hospital.
He testified about the drugs in my system.
About the damage from the kick.
About the twins' condition.
They called the detective who'd investigated the case.
He testified about the evidence found in Linda's house.
The prescription bottles.
The text messages.
The emails.
They called the pharmacist who'd filled Linda's prescriptions.
He testified about how she'd picked up methotrexate every month for eight months.
Then it was my turn.
I sat on the stand.
The courtroom was quiet.
I told them about meeting Ethan.
About falling in love.
About marrying him.
I told them about Linda.
About the constant criticism.
The manipulation.
The way she'd tried to turn Ethan against me.
I told them about the party.
About announcing my pregnancy.
About Linda calling me a liar.
About the kick.
The pain.
The blood.
I told them about finding out I was carrying twins.
About finding out Linda had been drugging me for months.
Linda's attorney cross-examined me.
He tried to make me look like a liar.
Like an actress.
Like someone who'd orchestrated the whole thing for sympathy.
But I didn't break.
I told the truth.
Calmly.
Clearly.
And the jury believed me.
Then Ethan testified.
He told them about his mother.
About growing up with her manipulation.
About always making excuses for her.
About the night of the party.
About seeing her kick me.
About the journal I'd found.
About cutting her off.
"I love my mother," he said, his voice breaking. "But she's not the woman I thought she was. She's dangerous. And she needs to be held accountable for what she did to my wife and my children."
It was powerful.
I saw several jurors wipe away tears.
The defense called witnesses.
Linda's sister testified that Linda was a wonderful woman who'd been framed.
Her childhood friend said the same thing.
But none of them could explain the evidence.
None of them could explain the prescription bottles.
The text messages.
The journal.
Finally, Linda testified.
She cried.
She pleaded.
She told the jury she was a loving mother and grandmother who'd been set up.
She said I was mentally unstable.
She said Ethan had been brainwashed.
She said the drugs had been planted.
She said the kick had been an accident.
She'd tripped.
She'd stumbled into me.
It was a masterful performance.
But I could see the jury didn't buy it.
They saw through the tears.
They saw the cold, calculating woman underneath.
The trial lasted two weeks.
The jury deliberated for three days.
When they came back, the courtroom was silent.
The foreman stood.
"On the charge of attempted murder in the first degree..."
He looked at Linda.
"We find the defendant guilty."
Linda showed no emotion.
"On the charge of assault causing grievous bodily harm..."
"We find the defendant guilty."
The judge sentenced her to twenty-five years to life in prison.
Twenty-five years.
She'd be eligible for parole when she was in her eighties.
If she lived that long.
Justice had been served.
As they led her away, she didn't look at me.
She didn't look at Ethan.
She just stared straight ahead.
Empty.
Defeated.
Ethan held me as we walked out of the courtroom.
Reporters shouted questions.
Cameras flashed.
But I didn't care.
May you like
It was over.
Linda could never hurt us again.
