Chapter Thirty-Two
Simon
“And then?” Tony asked.
“And then things changed.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.
“He was jealous of the time I spent with my friends, saying he missed me when I wasn’t with him, so I started pulling back.
He asked me to change the way I dressed.
Said it made him jealous when other men looked at me.
” Her eyes dropped to her hands. “I thought it was sweet, so I started taking him shopping with me and let him pick out my clothes. Then it changed to I was too fat, that I needed to lose weight. He told me I was lucky he loved me because no one else would.”
I felt my chest tighten. Sadie had worried about her size her whole life. But hearing her say it out loud, in front of all these people, made it real in a way it hadn’t been before.
“When did the relationship become violent?” Tony asked gently.
“Objection, leading.”
“Sustained,” Uncle Alex said.
“I’ll rephrase. Did Alan ever hit you?”
Sadie nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “Yes. He hit me. He pushed me. He grabbed me hard enough to leave bruises. He said it was my fault, that I made him angry.”
Her voice broke with emotion. “One night, we were arguing about something stupid. He grabbed my wrist and twisted it. I heard it snap.” She paused, swallowing hard. “I knew it was broken, but I was so ashamed. I was so afraid of what he’d say, what he’d do if I told anyone the truth.”
I felt tears on my cheeks. I didn’t bother wiping them away.
My sister. My baby sister.
“What did you do?” Tony asked gently.
“I went to the hospital. When they asked how it happened, I told them I fell. I said I was clumsy, that I tripped down the stairs.” Her voice was hollow.
“The doctor knew I was lying. I could see it in her eyes. But I kept lying anyway. I told her I was fine, that it was an accident, that I had always been clumsy.”
“Why did you lie?” Tony asked.
“Because...” Sadie’s voice cracked. “Because I was terrified. Because he told me that if I told anyone the truth, he’d leave me. And I believed that being alone was worse than being hurt. I believed that somehow it was my fault, that I’d made him angry, that I deserved it.”
“Thank you, Ms. Nelson. No further questions.”
I looked over at the jury. Sadie’s testimony had affected them all.
Rosalind stood without hesitation. The room seemed to shrink as she walked toward Sadie. My gut felt heavy; instinct to protect my sister roared inside me. But I couldn’t do that. This was something she had to do on her own.
“Ms. Nelson, you’re testifying here today to save your brother from a murder conviction, correct?”
“I’m testifying because it’s the truth,” Sadie said.
“The truth,” Rosalind repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. “You expect this jury to believe that you were abused by Alan Sanders, yet you have no witnesses to corroborate your story?”
“Objection,” Tony said sharply. “Badgering.”
“Sustained,” Uncle Alex said. “Ms. Winthrop, watch your tone.”
Rosalind’s jaw tightened. “Ms. Nelson, what happened the night Alan Sanders was murdered?”
Sadie took a shaky breath. Her hands trembled in her lap.
“He came home drunk,” she said quietly. “It was late. He smelled like... like perfume. Like another woman.” Her voice wavered. “I asked him about it. When he wouldn’t answer, I told him I was done. That I was leaving him.”
She paused, her eyes distant, reliving it.
“He lost it. He was screaming at me, calling me names, telling me I was a worthless piece of shit for questioning him. He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. His hands were around my neck, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t—” Her voice broke.
The courtroom was silent. Even Rosalind had gone still.
“I fought back,” Sadie continued, her voice stronger now, fueled by the memory of her terror.
“I clawed at his arms, his face. I was trying to get away from him. He let me go, telling me I wasn’t worth enough to kill.
When I looked up, he was walking away from me again, but I knew—” She stopped, her eyes filling with tears.
“I knew he was going to kill me. I could see it in his eyes. He was going to finish what he’d started. ”
She swallowed hard. Sadie’s hands shook as she gripped the edge of the witness stand.
“There was a knife on the counter. I grabbed it. When he came at me, I-I didn’t think. I just reacted. I was terrified. I was fighting for my life.”
The courtroom erupted.
Gasps. Voices raised in shock. People standing, turning to each other, the noise rising like a wave.
I couldn’t breathe. My mouth dropped open as I stared at my little sister.
She just confessed. She just told them the truth.
Uncle Alex slammed the gavel down, the sound echoing through the chaos. “Order! Order in this court!”
The noise didn’t stop.
“I will clear this courtroom if you do not settle down!” Uncle Alex’s voice was loud, commanding, his expression stern. “Bailiff, prepare to remove anyone who cannot maintain decorum.”
The threat worked. The noise subsided, but the energy in the room was electric, transformed.
Rosalind’s face was cold, calculating. She turned to Uncle Alex, her voice sharp. “Your Honor, this is a coordinated stunt. The defendant, his sister, and his counsel have orchestrated this confession to save Simon Nelson from prosecution, a fabrication. A last-ditch effort to—”
“I have proof,” Sadie said, her voice cutting through Rosalind’s words.
Rosalind stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“I have proof,” Sadie repeated, her voice stronger now. “I recorded him. I recorded Alan. His threats. His abuse. Everything.”
My breath caught.
She recorded him?
“I have the recording,” Sadie added. “It’s on my phone. It’s evidence of everything I’ve said.”
The courtroom was silent now, everyone staring at Sadie.
Rosalind’s face went pale.
Uncle Alex leaned forward. “Ms. Nelson, are you saying you have a recording of Alan Sanders threatening you?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Sadie said. “I thought if something happened to me... I wanted someone to know the truth.”
I looked at Tony. His expression was unreadable, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched on the table.
He was angry.
Did he know about this? Did he know she had a recording?
I felt my heart pounding, my mind racing.
Everything just changed.
Sadie had confessed. She’d admitted the truth. And she had evidence to back it up.
I looked at my sister, sitting on the stand with tears streaming down her face, and I felt my chest tighten with fear.
What have you done, Sadie? What have you just sacrificed to save me?
The gavel came down hard, the sound echoing through the stunned courtroom.
“We’re in recess,” Uncle Alex announced, his voice sharp and commanding. “Ms. Winthrop, Mr. Gallagher, and Ms. Nelson, my chambers. Now.”
The courtroom erupted into murmurs, but I barely heard them over the roaring in my ears.
Wait. What?
I started to stand, but Uncle Alex’s gaze swept past me without acknowledgment. He wasn’t calling me back. Just Sadie. Just Tony. Just Rosalind.
Why not me?
Tony was already moving; he stood, looking into my eyes for a beat. “Stay here,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “I’ll handle this.”
“But—”
“Trust me, Simon.”
And then he was gone, following Uncle Alex through the side door. The bailiff escorted Sadie down from the witness stand, his hand hovering near her elbow but not touching. Rosalind walked ahead of them, her spine rigid, her heels clicking sharply against the tile floor.
The door to the chambers closed behind them with a heavy thud.
And I was left standing there, alone at the defense table, my heart pounding in my chest.
What the hell just happened?
I turned to where my parents sat in the gallery. Mom’s face was pale, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Dad reached out and squeezed my arm.
Mom leaned toward me immediately, her voice low and urgent. “What was that about?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice tight.
“Why wouldn’t he call you?” Dad asked, his brow furrowed. “You’re the defendant.”
“I don’t know,” I repeated, though I wasn’t sure he was actually looking for an answer.
Mom’s hand found mine, her grip warm and steady. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”
“Is it?” I looked at her, searching her face for certainty I knew she couldn’t give. “She just confessed to killing Alan. In open court. And now she’s back there with the judge and the prosecutor, and I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Tony is with her,” Dad said, though his tone suggested he was trying to convince himself as much as me. “He’ll make sure she’s protected.”
I nodded, but the reassurance felt hollow. Tony was with her. But I wasn’t. I was out here, sitting in the courtroom like a spectator in my own trial, waiting for someone to tell me what was happening to my sister.
The minutes stretched.
Around us, the courtroom buzzed with whispered conversations. People leaning toward each other, speculating, theorizing. I caught fragments of their words.
Recording.
Confession.
Self-defense.
None of it made sense. None of it told me what was happening behind that closed door.
I stared at the door to the chambers, waiting for it to open. Waiting for someone to come out and tell me what was going on.
What kind of recording does she have? What did she capture?
My mind raced through possibilities. Alan’s threats. His abuse. The night he died.
Oh God. Did she record the night she killed him?
The thought made my stomach drop.
If she had... if there was proof of what happened that night... proof of Alan attacking her, proof of her defending herself...
This could change everything.
But it could also destroy her.
I looked at my parents. Mom was watching me, her eyes full of worry. Dad’s jaw was tight, his hand resting on my shoulder like he could anchor me through sheer force of will.
“How long have they been back there?” I asked.
Dad glanced at his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes. It felt like hours.
I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, my hands clasped in front of me. I tried to breathe. Tried to think. Tried to make sense of what was happening.
But all I could think about was Sadie.
Sadie, sitting in that room with Uncle Alex and Rosalind and Tony, showing them whatever proof she had. Sadie, who’d just confessed to murder in open court. Sadie, who’d been living in fear for so long that she’d started documenting her own abuse.
What did you record, Sadie? What are they seeing right now?
The door to the chambers remained closed.
The courtroom remained tense.
And I remained helpless, waiting for someone to tell me what happened to my sister.
Finally, the door opened.
Tony emerged first, his expression unreadable but his shoulders tight with tension. Rosalind followed, her features tight, her hands clenched into fists. The bailiff escorted Sadie out last, her eyes red-rimmed, her hands trembling.
Uncle Alex appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. He moved to the bench and stood in front of the courtroom.
Tony walked straight to me, his eyes locking on mine. I stood on shaking legs, my mind still reeling. When he reached the defense table, he shook his head and turned to face Uncle Alex.
The bailiff called out, “All rise.”
“We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning at nine,” Uncle Alex announced. “Until then, this court is adjourned.”
The gavel came down.
“We need to talk,” Tony said, leaning toward me. “Not here. Let’s go.”
What happened in there? What did they see?
But Tony was already moving, guiding me toward the exit with a hand on my lower back. My parents followed, and Sadie walked beside the bailiff, her eyes downcast.
As we stepped into the hallway, I finally found my voice.
“Tony, what—”
“Not here,” he said again, his tone firm. “David, Susan, meet us at Simon’s. And bring Sadie. Then I’ll explain everything.”
I nodded, but the knot in my stomach only tightened.
Everything just changed.
I could feel it.
But I didn’t know yet if it had changed for better or worse.