Chapter 8
Mom testified the next day.
She didn’t put on a show like Hannah.
She walked to the stand, her shoulders hunched, her face pale. She didn’t look at me. Not once.
Mr. Bennett asked her about the slap first.
“Did you strike your daughter, Olivia, across the face at Sunday dinner on November 5th?” he said.
Mom hesitated.
Then she nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Why?”
Mom was quiet for a long time.
Then she started crying.
“I was ashamed,” she said, her voice breaking. “I knew she was right. I knew the will was fake. I knew we’d done a terrible thing. And when she asked about it… I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t face that I’d failed my husband. That I’d failed my daughter. So I hit her. Because it was easier than admitting I was wrong.”
She wiped her face, looked up at the jury for the first time.
“I’ve always favored Hannah,” she said. “I don’t know why. She was always more like me. More… needy. I thought she needed me more. Olivia was always so strong, so independent. I thought she didn’t need me. I thought she’d be fine no matter what.”
She looked at me, then. Her eyes were red, full of tears.
“I was wrong,” she said. “She needed me. And I wasn’t there. I let Hannah manipulate me. I let her talk me into pressuring Robert. I stood by while she hurt my own daughter. And I will regret that for the rest of my life.”
The courtroom was silent.
“Robert was a good man,” she said, quieter now. “He loved both our girls more than anything. And I took his last wishes and I threw them in the trash. Because I was selfish. Because I was weak.”
She looked at me again.
“I’m sorry, Liv,” she said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. But I am so, so sorry.”
She stepped down from the stand, walked back to her table, and put her head in her hands.
Hannah stared at her, furious, like she couldn’t believe her own mother had betrayed her.
Closing arguments were that afternoon.
Mom’s lawyer didn’t have much left to say. He mumbled something about family disputes and grief, and sat down.
Mr. Bennett stood up.
“This case was never about money,” he said, looking at the jury. “It was about a dying man’s last wish. It was about a daughter who showed up, every single day, when her family needed her most. And it was about justice. For Robert Carter. For Olivia. For every person who’s ever been made to feel like they don’t belong in their own family.”
He paused.
“Olivia didn’t ask for this fight,” he said. “She just wanted what was hers. What her father wanted her to have. And for that, she was slapped. Lied about. Dragged through the mud. But she didn’t back down. Because she knew her dad was watching.”
He looked at me.
“Your job today is simple,” he said to the jury. “Honor a father’s last wish. Give this brave woman the justice she deserves.”
Then it was my turn.
I walked to the stand, my hands shaking a little.
I told the jury about the chemo nights. About holding Dad’s hand while he threw up, while he cried, while he told me he was scared he wouldn’t see me get married, have kids, live the life he’d always wanted for me.
I told them about the slap. About how it hadn’t just hurt my cheek. It had broken my heart. Because it was from the woman who was supposed to love me no matter what.
I told them about the video. About Dad saying I was his rock.
“I don’t care about the money,” I said, my voice steady now. “I could give every penny away tomorrow and I’d be fine. I have a good job. I have the best friend in the world. I have my grandma. I have my dad’s memory.”
I looked at Mom, then at Hannah.
“But I do care that my dad’s wishes are respected,” I said. “I do care that no one else ever has to go through what I went through. Feeling like you’re not loved enough. Like you don’t deserve to be part of your own family.”
I looked at the jury.
“All I ever wanted was to know that my dad’s love for me was real,” I said. “And I do know that. Nothing can take that away. But I’m asking you today to make sure no one else can ever take it away again.”
I stepped down.
May you like
The jury filed out to deliberate.
I sat back down, took Mia’s hand, and waited.
