I looked at Willow coldly. "Second question: the angle of your video doesn't show what I did after pushing the scooter into the hallway. So on what basis are you claiming I was charging it?"
"Do you even need to ask? If you weren't charging it, what else would you be doing?"
Willow's tone was completely matter-of-fact.
"Exactly." Dylan chimed in. "Why else would you haul that scooter into the hallway every single day?"
"I moved it because it was a safety hazard," I said coldly. "That building has a lot of kids. The scooter was parked right at the entrance—one wrong step and a child could get hurt."
Willow snorted. "Jade, you really know how to make yourself look good."
Dylan's mockery cut deeper. "The way you talk, we should build you a shrine. Saint Jade, savior of children."
The jurors weren't buying it either.
"Stop with the sophistry. Nobody here is an idiot. No one believes that high-minded nonsense."
"The facts are clear. Your illegal charging caused the fire."
"Plead guilty now, and the court might show leniency."
I was so angry I almost laughed.
"It wasn't me. Why would I plead guilty?"
"You keep talking about facts, about truth—but do you actually know the truth? Be careful you're not being used as someone's pawn and destroying your own credibility."
That struck a nerve. The jurors' expressions soured.
"Used as pawns? Are you questioning our professionalism?"
"If you really weren't responsible, would the plaintiffs—whose lives you saved—actually frame you?"
"Hmph. You just want to escape justice."
The judge fixed me with a stern look. "Defendant, do you have anything else to state?"
Seeing everyone on their side, Willow and Dylan exchanged a glance and smiled.
I spoke up. "Your Honor, the plaintiff's evidence is questionable. I request acquittal."
"Of course, if she can produce evidence proving that scooter is mine, and that I actually charged it illegally after moving it inside, I'll plead guilty."
The moment I finished, Willow's voice exploded through the courtroom.
"There are witnesses! There's physical evidence! What more doubt is there?" She jabbed a finger at me. "You just think an old couple like us is easy to bully!"
Then she burst into loud, heaving sobs.
"Why is my life so bitter? We were living peacefully, and then—fire. Everything gone. And now the person responsible won't even admit it because we're old." Her voice cracked. "I... I don't want to live anymore!"
She lunged toward the corner of the table.
"Ma'am, don't!" Dylan grabbed her, then whipped around to glare at me. "We've got one foot in the grave already—why would we frame you? We just want what we're owed. You keep refusing to admit guilt—are you trying to kill us?"
The jurors piled on.
"This is infuriating. How can anyone be this heartless?"
"Look what you've driven these elderly people to. Do you have any conscience?"
"A woman like you belongs in prison. Letting you walk free endangers everyone."
I let them rage, faces red, voices hoarse, hurling accusations. I didn't say a word. I just watched Willow and Dylan's performance in silence.
"A courtroom runs on evidence," I said finally. "Not theatrics. And certainly not on whoever cries the loudest."
After saying that, I turned to the judge.
"Your Honor, the plaintiff has no other evidence to prove my guilt, but I have definitive proof that the electric scooter isn't mine."
The judge nodded. "Defendant, please present your evidence."
I pulled out test reports from multiple hospitals.
"Your Honor, please look. I have a congenital balance perception disorder. I physically cannot control any two-wheeled vehicle—I never learned to ride one, and I certainly never bought an electric scooter."
I paused to let that sink in.
"And in the video the plaintiff provided, the scooter at the first ignition point is a two-wheeler."
Smack!
I slammed the reports down hard on the table.
"The facts speak for themselves. That scooter isn't mine. These reports prove it!"
