Chapter 12 - Incontrovertible Evidence
My mother backed away, clutching her pearl necklace as if it were a life preserver. She began her act of a weak, innocent woman.
"You have it all wrong! She slipped!" Patricia cried, her crocodile tears flowing quickly. "Lena, sweetheart, you're just dazed, aren't you? You fell on your own, tell them! I told you not to wear those high heels!"
The hundred guests in the room, who had remained silent, turned their heads to stare at the trail of blood on the marble floor. Her lie was too blatant, too pathetic.
Daniel's voice cut through her theatrical sobbing. "Every security camera in this room, at every angle, has captured exactly how he grabbed her hair and smashed her face down. Your lies are useless."
As if to cement the proof, the photographer—the one my father had threatened earlier—bravely stepped forward. He raised his camera high. "I have it all on high-resolution continuous shooting. Frame by frame."
My father let out a furious roar, lunging toward the photographer like a mad beast. "You bastard, give me that camera!"
But before he could take three steps.
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The two massive police officers tackled him to the ground in an instant. The champagne bottle on the table was knocked to the floor, shattering into a million pieces, sending glass flying under the tables. The sharp sound of metal cuffs echoed. Cold steel locked around the wrists of Frank Hale, pinning him down onto the very marble floor where he had just brutally beaten me.
"Ungrateful parasite! After everything I did for you!" My father screamed, spitting. He thrashed around, glaring at me with eyes full of hatred. "Is this how you repay me?!"
