Chapter 12 - The Courthouse Confrontation
Nia marched across the linoleum floor, her boots clicking sharply against the tile, while Julian lingered a few paces behind with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Her face was flushed with a mixture of panic and righteous indignation, her eyes darting between Marcus and the intake desk where the receptionist was already reaching for her telephone.
“Marcus, what are you doing here?” Nia demanded, stopping just short of their chairs. “Brenda told you we were trying to work this out with a family mediator! You’re actually going to sit here and let the state prosecute your own wife?”
Marcus didn’t stand up. He looked up at Nia with a quiet, impenetrable calm that unnerved her far more than any shouting match could have. “You didn't want mediation, Nia. You wanted time to hide more assets and fabricate more fake bank accounts. The Foundation already handed over the digital forensics report to the intake officer.”
Julian stepped forward, his face twisting into an ugly sneer. “You’re destroying our lives over a stupid computer, man! It was just a piece of hardware! We can pay you back the twelve hundred dollars once my delivery contract gets renewed next month!”
“It was never about the hardware, Julian,” Ava spoke up, her voice clear, steady, and entirely devoid of fear. She stood up from her chair, looking her stepbrother directly in the eyes. “It was about you stealing my work, and Mom helping you cover it up because she didn't believe a girl like me could ever build something worth stealing.”
Julian opened his mouth to retort, but before a single word could escape, a side door swung open and Investigator Miller stepped out into the waiting room, holding a red folder emblazoned with the municipal seal.
“Mr. Vance?” Miller called out, his eyes scanning the room before locking onto Marcus. He then noticed Nia and Julian standing nearby, their panicked expressions instantly telling him everything he needed to know. “Ah, I see we have all the interested parties in one place today. Perfect.”
Nia turned toward Miller, her hands flying up in a desperate gesture. “Officer, listen to me, there’s been a massive misunderstanding! My husband has been hiding offshore accounts and—”
May you like
“Mrs. Vance,” Miller interrupted, his tone completely flat and professional. “Step away from the counter and take a seat in the designated visitor area. Unless you are formally listed as legal representation on this case, you have no right to interfere with an active fraud deposition.”
---
