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“When she attempted to shut the door on me, I kicked it open and took a bat to her head.”
There’s an audible reaction from the jury. Even his lawyer’s eyes pop at the wreckage of their now impending case. Connor sits on the stand with ease, his delusional mind uncomprehensive of his confession. He seems proud of his actions.
“What did you do then? Was Clara still conscious when you entered her home after assaulting—”
“Objection!”
“On what grounds? He claimed fault right on this stand.” The defense team concedes. They smell the loss right then and there as we all witness his mental haze as if he’s reliving that day and enjoying it.
“Sustained. Continue, counsel.” Judge Foster pushes us to go on.
Justin nods. “What did you do once you entered the home?”
With no sense of mercy in his voice, he answers. “She begged me not to kill her. Cried for her son, what’s his name again? Not that it matters…”
“And then what happened?” Justin asks.
Detail after horrifyingly sick detail. “She reached out for me, grabbing my leg. Got blood all over my pants, so I hit her again.”
The hairs on my arms stand at his chilling response. His tone is void of emotion. “Did you kill her then—”
“Objection! Hearsay!” His defense wears a desperate expression, pleading with him to shut it down.
“I’ll rephrase. Was Clara still alive after you hit her again?”
“Yeah, until I took the rosery beads she had wrapped around her finger and choked her with them.”
“Miss Matthews, how are you holding up?” Justin asks the question I’m desperately needing to hear the answer to.
“I’m doing as well as can be expected.”
He walks around the table, giving her his undivided attention. “Miss Matthews, it has to be hard to hear the allegations presented against you, a victim in all this, being put on the stand as an accused.”
Hannah nods. “Lies hurt anyone on the other end of their sharpness. But I’m here today to tell the truth and let the jury decide.”
My strong girl.
“And the judicial system was built on fairness. Today, we will prove that. Hannah, do you think you can replay some of your time held captive in Clara Hill’s home—”
“Objection. Hearsay.”
“Sustained.”
“I can.” She inhales a deep breath and begins. “I woke up tied to a bed, later to realize I was in Clara Hill’s home…”
She goes over her experience, and my stomach threatens to expel my coffee, the only thing I’ve been able to get down today. I listen because I need to feel the reaction of the jury, but I wish I could shut my mind off. “…then I was able to run, but he caught me shortly after. That’s when he stabbed me with the knife…” The next few minutes are in vivid detail. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a sobbing Cheryl leave the courtroom.
“Did he try to help you after you begged?”
“No, he said he couldn’t. His father was going to fix it all.”
“His father being?”
“Benjamin Miller.” She explains in further detail her short interaction with Benjamin, and I have to force myself to stay calm and not go find him in his jail cell and wrap my hands around his beady neck when she confesses the son of a bitch told his son to set her on fire. “And then what happened?” Justin questions, and Hannah breaks, a small sob escaping her beautiful lips. “Please, Miss Matthews, take your time. Do you need a break?”
God, I want to get up and wrap my arms around her. Why did I agree to this? I should have never put her through this.
“No, I’m okay.” She wipes away a stray tear before answering. “Braydon…or Connor, disappeared out the back. I was bleeding so bad, I could barely stay conscious, let alone run for my life. But I knew if I didn’t try to escape, I was going to die.” She weeps softly, then pauses to take a moment to compose herself. “When I finally found the strength, I got up and made my way to the door, but it was too late. He returned and threw me into the table, I believe. I hit my head hard and started going in and out of consciousness. I remember waking up and smelling the gasoline. He was soaking the house. I begged and pleaded with him, but he wouldn’t stop. He said I knew too much. The last thing I remember is the flick of his lighter.”
“The defense rests, your honor.”
I’m tired. Jim’s tired. Our whole damn team is tired. It’s been seven hours of going back and forth, jugular for jugular. The defense has finished their closing arguments. The rest of Connor’s testimonies have me in a state of sickness and rage.
“She coerced me to delete the files. She hated Mr. Dent for turning her down, so she wanted to get revenge.”
