A gasp rippled through the gallery. Michael's face flushed crimson.
A six-foot man, eyes turning red in an instant, drawing stares from every corner of the room.
"Are you saying my father's injuries are fabricated too? Do you even hear yourself? You think I'd risk my own father's life to frame you?"
After shouting those words, he swiped roughly at the tears on his face and glared at the judge.
"I have one more piece of evidence. Enough to prove that car was driven by her grandfather!"
He clapped his hands, and within moments a woman was escorted in.
The instant I saw who it was, my brow furrowed. I never expected Michael to bring her as a witness.
The woman stepped forward, glanced around the courtroom, and the moment her eyes landed on me, she looked away.
"I'm the one who registered the plates for that car."
"On the day in question, the defendant's grandfather came to my office to get the plates processed."
"I could tell he was getting on in years, so I even reminded him to drive carefully on the road. Who could've imagined..."
Sharon Lambert trailed off, but the gallery had already erupted.
The crowd cursed in fury, convinced the case was settled, heaping every ounce of blame onto me.
"There you have it! Witness testimony AND physical evidence. Is she still going to deny it?"
"That old man must've gone straight out on the road after getting his plates, and that's when he hit the poor guy."
"Old fool should've stayed home instead of going out and ruining someone's life!"
The insults came in waves, but I wasn't fazed in the slightest.
I looked calmly at Sharon Lambert, the clerk from the vehicle registration office.
"Sharon, can you swear that every word you just said is the truth?"
Something flickered in her eyes, a flash of guilt, but she steadied herself almost instantly and let out a cold scoff.
"Right and wrong speak for themselves. Since I have knowledge of this matter, I can't just stay silent and watch an innocent man suffer."
Michael also turned to me, his eyes bloodshot.
"What else could you possibly have to say? Someone SAW your grandfather out on the street after he got those plates."
"The surveillance camera even caught the moment he hit my father. No matter how hard you try to cover for him, it won't change a thing!"
I let out a cold laugh, pulled up a purchase receipt on my phone, and looked calmly at Mr. Finch.
"I believe it's my turn to submit evidence?"
He snatched the phone impatiently, muttering under his breath.
"Their side has ironclad evidence. What could you possibly..."
He never finished the sentence. The next second his eyes went wide, and he shot to his feet.
"We have material evidence!" he shouted. "Evidence proving the defendant is innocent!"
