"Permission to present evidence!"
Willow pulled out a USB drive and started playing a video for the court.
The footage was obviously edited—every clip showed me pushing an electric scooter into the apartment hallway.
"Your Honor, members of the jury," Willow said, "this video was recorded one month before the fire. As you can see, Jade Pruitt pushed an electric scooter into the hallway every single night. According to the fire investigation report, that very scooter was the point of ignition."
She paused for effect.
"This video is conclusive evidence that Jade Pruitt's illegal charging caused the fire."
She shot me a smug look and silently mouthed: You're dead.
The jury erupted into whispers.
"The plaintiff's evidence is compelling."
"From this footage, Pruitt is clearly the prime suspect."
"I actually felt bad for her earlier when she gave that speech—turns out she was just playing the victim. Shameless."
The murmuring swelled until it felt like the verdict had already been decided.
These people!
I clenched my jaw. They only saw what Willow wanted them to see. Did no one notice the glaring problems with this so-called evidence?
"Your Honor, I object!"
Willow's voice turned sharp. "Jade Pruitt, the facts are right in front of you. You don't get to object."
"And don't bother with another theatrical speech. This is a courtroom—we deal in evidence here, not moral grandstanding."
"Funny," I shot back. "You also know this is a place that deals in evidence."
I turned to the judge. "Your Honor, I request permission to question several inconsistencies in the plaintiff's evidence."
"Granted."
I faced Willow, ignoring her sneer. "First question: What makes you certain the scooter in that video is mine?"
She laughed like I'd said something absurd. "Are you stupid? Do I really need to answer that? Anyone with eyes can tell."
"If it wasn't yours, why would you push it into the hallway every day?"
The jurors nodded along.
Yeah—if it wasn't hers, why would she do that? She had no reason to.
"Just to avoid admitting guilt, she asks something this idiotic. Hopeless."
"A woman in her twenties, and she treats human lives like nothing."
"Some people look clean on the outside, but their hearts rotted long ago."
I ignored their remarks and spoke firmly.
"I'm not stupid, and this isn't a stupid question."
"Because that scooter couldn't possibly be mine."
The jurors exploded.
"Hopeless! Absolutely hopeless!"
"Your Honor, I request her sentence be increased!"
"Agreed. Someone this shameless, this unwilling to admit guilt—she needs a harsher punishment to learn respect for the law."
"Order!"
The judge frowned at me. "Defendant, you claim the scooter isn't yours. Do you have evidence to support that?"
Before I could answer, Willow cut in. "She's going to say she never bought one—but my husband and I both saw her with it."
"That's right!" Dylan nodded eagerly. "I saw her ride that scooter home from work multiple times. I even asked when she got it, and she said she'd just bought it."
I let out a cold laugh. "If you'd actually seen what you claim, you wouldn't be here today lying under oath."
I wasn't going to waste breath arguing. This was easy enough to verify.
