Chapter 10 - SIXTY CALLS IN COURT
The trial began eleven months after Lily died.
By then, my hair had grown longer.
My wedding ring had been gone for nearly a year.
The mansion was sold.
Vance Capital existed only in lawsuits.
David entered the courtroom wearing a navy suit.
No handcuffs in front of the jury.
No expensive watch.
No assistant.
No mistress.
He looked at me.
I looked back.
The prosecution started with money.
Then Northstar.
Then my forged signature.
Then Lily's stolen inheritance.
Thomas Reed testified.
Julianne testified.
Elliot testified.
Marcus Vale testified.
Every person who had once protected David now described how he used them.
Then came the yacht.
The photograph appeared on a courtroom screen.
Julianne in a white bikini.
David beside her.
Champagne.
Blue water.
His hand resting on her thigh.
SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO DISCONNECT TO FIND YOURSELF.
The prosecutor turned toward Julianne.
"Was this photograph taken while Maya Vance was attempting to contact her husband?"
Julianne nodded.
"Yes."
"Did David know she was calling?"
"Yes."
"Did you ask why?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
Julianne's voice broke.
"He said she was dramatic."
The prosecutor displayed the call log.
Sixty calls.
One after another.
The jury went silent.
Then my messages.
Then David's.
STOP SUFFOCATING ME.
DIGITAL DETOX.
DO NOT CONTACT ME.
HANDLE IT YOURSELF.
David stared at the table.
Julianne began crying.
The prosecutor asked her, "Did he ever check on Lily?"
"No."
"Once?"
"No."
"Did he ask to speak with her?"
"No."
"Did you?"
Julianne froze.
"No."
That mattered too.
Because Julianne wanted to pretend she hadn't known.
But Lily had existed.
A seven-year-old child.
And neither adult had bothered to ask.
Then I was called.
The courtroom seemed farther away as I walked to the witness stand.
The prosecutor smiled gently.
"Tell us about Lily."
I almost broke.
Instead, I smiled.
"She was terrible at whispering."
A few people laughed softly.
"She thought ketchup belonged on scrambled eggs."
More smiles.
"She was missing one front tooth."
My eyes filled.
"And she loved pancakes shaped like animals."
I told them about her school play.
The tree costume.
The voicemail.
The fever.
The ICU.
Then the prosecutor asked, "What did she ask you that night?"
I looked at David.
"Is Daddy coming?"
His face crumpled.
"How did you answer?"
"I said yes."
"Why?"
"Because she was seven."
My voice cracked.
"And because I didn't want the last thing she understood about her father to be that he wouldn't answer."
David covered his mouth.
The prosecutor continued.
"How many times did you call him?"
"Sixty."
"Why so many?"
"Because I kept believing the next one might be the call he answered."
"Did he?"
"No."
"Final call?"
"4:11 a.m."
"What time did Lily die?"
"4:17."
The courtroom became completely still.
"What were her final words?"
I closed my eyes.
Then said them.
"Tell Daddy I waited."
David made a sound.
His lawyer grabbed his arm.
David bent forward.
I felt no victory.
Only pain.
The prosecutor asked, "Why didn't you tell David afterward?"
I stared at him.
"Because he told me not to contact him."
Then I looked toward David.
"For once, I respected his boundary."
Even the judge looked away.
The defense cross-examined me carefully.
They tried to suggest grief had colored my memory.
I answered every question.
Then David insisted on testifying.
His attorney begged him not to.
David did it anyway.
He admitted the affair.
He admitted the fraud.
He denied intending my death.
Then he said, "I loved my daughter."
The prosecutor stood.
"You loved Lily?"
"Yes."
"You listened to her voicemail about the school play?"
David froze.
"No."
"You deleted it?"
"Yes."
"Without listening?"
His voice dropped.
"Yes."
"You attended the play?"
"No."
"You called her during your eighty-day trip?"
"No."
"Once?"
"No."
"Did you text her?"
"No."
"Ask Maya how she was?"
"No."
The prosecutor looked toward the jury.
"Mr. Vance, you keep saying you loved your daughter."
"I did."
"Then what did love look like to you?"
David stared at him.
No answer.
The silence lasted nearly ten seconds.
Long enough to hurt.
The prosecutor returned to his table.
"No further questions."
The jury deliberated for forty-three hours.
Then the verdict.
Wire fraud.
Guilty.
Bank fraud.
Guilty.
Identity theft.
Guilty.
Money laundering.
Guilty.
Racketeering.
Guilty.
Conspiracy related to the vehicle sabotage.
Guilty.
David closed his eyes.
Julianne cried.
Vale stared at the floor.
I sat perfectly still.
Justice had arrived.
But Lily was still dead.
That was the cruelest truth.
May you like
The courtroom could punish David.
It could not reverse 4:17 a.m.
