Chapter 12 - Kitchen Table Prep
The night before the trial, Arthur sat at our kitchen table, going over the line of questioning.
"The defense attorney is going to try to paint you as a bitter ex-wife, Hannah," Arthur warned, pushing his glasses up his nose. "He will say you are lying about the invoices to get revenge for a messy divorce."
"Let him try," Hannah said, sipping her tea. Her hands weren't shaking.
"Just stick to the facts," I added, sitting beside her. "You saw the invoices. You saw the Indiana postmarks. You asked Grant about them in April, and he told you it was a 'cost-saving measure' to bypass Illinois organic taxes."
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"Exactly," Arthur nodded. "Don't let them rattle you. You hold the truth. They only hold a house of cards."
Hannah looked at me, a fierce, unbreakable light in her eyes. "I survived living with him, Arthur. A man in a suit asking me questions isn't going to break me."
