My Stepmother Claimed I Was Not Stable In Court Until The Judge Removed His Glasses

He nodded.

I picked up a black binder from the table. Two hundred pages, tabbed with colored flags. Red for financial records. Blue for digital forensics. Green for corporate filings. Yellow for the perjury.

I placed it in front of him.

“I didn’t lose track of three hundred and ten thousand dollars,” I said. “I watched every dollar leave. I know exactly where it went, when it went, and who sent it.”

Behind me, I heard Diane’s hands grip the table edge. I did not turn around.

“These are the wire transfer confirmations from the trust’s operating account,” I said, opening to the first red tab. “Forty-seven individual transfers over eleven months, made to three separate LLCs: Bluebird Properties, Golf Horizon Consulting, and Legacy Asset Management. All three companies were incorporated in Wyoming using a registered agent service. The beneficial owner of all three shell companies is Diane Marie Callaway. The woman sitting right there, asking Your Honor to give her control of the money she has already been stealing.”

The courtroom erupted. Aunt Colette made a sound. Someone in the gallery was whispering. Curtis was on his feet with an objection, but nobody was listening to Curtis right now.

“She fabricated that,” Diane said, her voice sharp, the performance dropping for the first time into something ra