📁 My attorney stood up first, addressing the bench with a calm, authoritative tone that immediately seized the attention of everyone present in the courtroom. He did not waste time with dramatic posturing or emotional appeals, choosing instead to step directly to the digital evidence projector with a thick red leather folder. With a single click of a mouse, the courtroom speakers crackled to life, broadcasting the crystal-clear audio recording captured by the small device hidden in my handbag on the night of the attack. Eleanor’s shrill voice echoed off the courtroom walls, confessing to the conspiracy behind the building inspections, followed immediately by the chilling sound of the boiling oil hitting my shoulder. Julian’s horrified gasp of realization cut sharply through the room as the undeniable truth of their coordinated violence was laid bare for the judge and the public gallery to witness. Color instantly drained from his face, washing away his cocky demeanor and replacing it with a desperate, panicked terror that made him grip the mahogany table for dear life.
