Chapter 7
The night before the trial, Julia showed up at my place with a stack of documents.
She looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes.
"Bad news," she said, dropping the papers on the coffee table. "Mark filed new evidence with the court.
"There's a psychiatric expert report saying Sophie has PTSD and suicidal ideation, and a neighbor's statement claiming they heard suspicious sounds coming from your unit late at night."
I flipped through the copies, and couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it all was.
"Psychiatric report? Which expert?" I asked.
"A Dr. Reeves at a small private clinic," Julia said, sitting down and rubbing her temples. "I checked. One of that clinic's investors is related to Mark. The report was bought."
"What about the neighbor's statement?" I asked.
Julian snorted, "Tom Nelson, seventh floor east, seventy-three years old and half-deaf.
"He says he heard a woman crying and screaming in your unit on the fifteenth of last month. You were at my place helping me move that night, and we have elevator footage and witnesses."
"They're actually taking this into a courtroom?" I asked.
"They can, and it won't hold," Julia said, looking at me. "Cross-examination takes it apart in a minute. The real problem is that they're building pressure.
"The evidence is fake, and it still slows the hearing down and works on the judge and the jury. That's what Mark wants. He wants you tired and rattled and ready to settle."
"Settle?" I closed the file. "He can keep dreaming."
"I know you won't," Julia said. "So here's the second piece of bad news. Mark has people saying that if you don't settle, he'll go public with your so-called habits."
"What fetishes?" I asked.
"That you dress like a man, that you're disturbed, and that you go after young girls," Julia said with a shrug. "Whatever's dirtiest. He's hired a crew to flood the internet with it on the day of the hearing."
I was quiet for a few seconds.
"That's defamation," I said.
"Of course it's defamation, and a lawsuit takes time. By the time it's over, your name is already ruined," Julia said with a sigh. "That's the ugly part. They don't come at you straight. They go low."
I walked over to the window, staring out at the deep, dark night.
The city was glowing, and under every light, there was a story waiting to be told.
My story had almost been rewritten into the filthiest version of itself by these people.
"Julia," I said, still facing the window, "I need you to do something for me."
"Just say it."
"Call every outlet you can reach, big or small. Tell them there's going to be a turn in that courtroom tomorrow and it's worth showing up for."
Julia blinked, caught off guard. "You want to make a scene?"
"Not a scene. An opening," I said, turning around. "They want to play with public opinion, so I'll play. This time everyone gets to see the truth."
Julia's eyes sparkled. "You want to livestream the trial?"
"No, we can't stream the trial. But the media can report, and journalists can sit in," I said, dropping onto the couch. "I want all of Mark's dirty tricks dragged out into the sunlight. He wants to trash my reputation? I'll make sure everyone sees exactly what kind of trash he is."
"That's a real risk," Julia said, and her face went tight. "If anything goes wrong in there, or the judge shuts the coverage down..."
"Nothing's going sideways," I cut her off. "Because I'm innocent. And as for the judge, this is a public trial. The media has the right to report. There's nothing he can do about it."
Julia stared at me for a long moment, then broke into a smile.
"Jordan, I never knew you had this in you."
"It's not fire," I said. "I just got pushed too far."
She put away the smile and nodded. "Alright, I'm on it. Tomorrow, the place will be crawling with reporters."
After Julia left, I sat alone in the living room.
It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Quiet enough that the fridge's hum and my own breathing sounded loud.
I grabbed my phone and checked the post.
Hundreds more replies had piled up.
[The hearing is tomorrow. I can't wait to watch this animal go down.]
[Scum like this shouldn't be anywhere near kids. Ban him for life.]
[Somebody should make sure he never does it again.]
I scrolled through them one by one, weirdly calm.
The anger had burned out and left nothing behind.
Just a cold, steely resolve.
These people, hiding behind their screens and waving their moral pitchforks, didn't care about the truth at all.
They just wanted a spectacle.
The next day, I was going to turn their witch hunt into a farce.