Every word she spoke was like a stab in my heart. I wanted to stand up, to scream that they were distorting the truth, but I held back, gripping the old leather briefcase tightly.
Jessica nodded, adding a venomous phrase, her voice filled with contempt. «He’s nothing but a burden. I deserve a better life, not serving someone who is worthless.»
Those words were a direct blow to Michael. He tried to stand up, his trembling hands leaning on his crutches, his voice broken with emotion. «I… I can still take care of my daughter. I’m still Sarah’s father.»
But his throat closed up, unable to finish the sentence. His face turned red, sweat ran down his forehead, and I saw his eyes fill with tears as if all the strength he had left was crumbling.
Jessica’s sarcastic laugh erupted, cruel and icy. «Look at yourself, Michael. You can’t even stand up. Who do you think you’re going to take care of?»
The entire room murmured. Pitying glances were fixed on my son. I felt my heart tearing apart. Michael, the son who was once my pride, now humiliated in front of everyone, called «useless» by the woman who claimed to love him.
The scales of justice seemed to be tipping in Jessica’s favor, and I knew if I didn’t act, everything Michael had sacrificed would be lost. In that instant, I stood up.
I walked calmly to the defense table. I opened the old leather briefcase. The sound of the zipper echoed sharply in the silent room. I placed it on the table.
I pulled a chair next to Michael, feeling my son’s astonished gaze. I took a deep breath. Then I stood up. My voice, clear and firm, resonated. «From this moment on, I, Linda Villasenor, will be the legal representative of my son, Mr. Michael Villasenor.»
The entire room fell silent, as if time had stopped. Jennifer was petrified, her eyes wide with astonishment. Jessica stared at me, her mouth agape. Her face turned pale, as if she had seen a ghost from the past.
The older people in the room began to murmur. Some whispered, «Linda Villasenor? Could it be?» I felt the wave of surprise spread, but I kept my eyes fixed on Judge Morales, who did not take his eyes off me.
The judge gently tapped his gavel, his voice trembling, filled with doubt and respect. «Mrs. Linda Villasenor, are you by any chance the ‘Queen of Law’?»
That question swept through the room like a wind, unleashing a general murmur. Michael looked at me, his eyes wet and incredulous, as if for the first time he was discovering that his mother was not just a mother. The elderly present began to nod, murmuring among themselves about the stories of the past, about the woman who once made rival lawyers tremble.
I nodded, my voice firm. «Your Honor, I have never stopped believing in justice.»
Those words were not just for the judge, but also for me, for Michael, and for those who looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and respect. I felt the strength of past days awaken within me, as if the flame I thought had long been extinguished was rekindling.
I looked at Jessica and saw her flinch. The triumphant smile on her lips had vanished. Jennifer, who was once my friend, lowered her head as if she knew she was facing an opponent she could not underestimate.
At the next hearing, the atmosphere in the courtroom was as tense as a rope about to snap. The room was packed: reporters with pens ready, curious neighbors, all drawn by the news that the «Queen of Law» had returned, a rumor that had spread like wildfire throughout Chicago.
I walked in holding Michael’s hand, feeling my son’s trembling hand gripping my arm. He said nothing, but in his tired eyes, a spark of hope shone. I squeezed his hand gently, wanting to tell him I was there and that I would not let anyone take what was rightfully his.
Jessica was sitting on the defendant’s bench, dressed with her usual elegance, though her customary smile no longer had the same shine. Beside her, Jennifer Rivers, her lawyer, looked tense, clutching a stack of documents as if they were her last resort.
Jessica’s family, her parents, and her brother occupied the bench behind, but their laughter and loud comments from the previous day had disappeared, replaced by nervous, conspiratorial glances. I knew they, too, felt the tide was turning, though they didn’t yet understand what was coming.
Judge Morales entered with his usual solemn bearing. He gestured for me to begin.
I stood up, opened my old leather briefcase, and took out a packet of carefully arranged documents. «Your Honor,» I said in a clear, firm voice, «I present as the first piece of evidence the property documents for the house located on the outskirts of Chicago. All records clearly indicate that this house was purchased by, and is in the name of, my son, Michael Villasenor, two years before his marriage to Mrs. Jessica Torres.»
I placed the papers on the table one by one, like laying bricks to build a wall of truth. The court clerk took the documents. He reviewed them in detail and nodded, confirming their authenticity. Judge Morales looked at them. He nodded, too, and a slight gesture of approval escaped his sharp gaze.
The room erupted in murmurs, the rumors spreading like a wave. The faces of Jessica’s parents turned pale. Her brother lowered his head, and Jessica clenched her fists, biting her lips to contain her rage.
Jennifer immediately stood up. Her voice still tried to sound haughty, though it was already trembling. «Your Honor, although the house may be considered separate property, during the years of cohabitation, it became the family residence. According to the marriage laws of this state, this fact can be taken into account for the division of property.»
I interrupted her with a harsh voice, giving her no room to continue. «Mrs. Rivers, the law is very clear. Common residence does not change the right of ownership over a property acquired before the marriage. This house is the untouchable asset of my son.»
The atmosphere in the room grew even tenser. Under the table, Michael squeezed my hand tightly, and I felt the warmth of his tremor. I looked at him, and in his eyes, that spark of hope shone again, as if for the first time in a long time he believed we could win.
But I knew the property papers were just the first step. I didn’t give them time to react, and I launched the second piece of evidence: a small USB drive containing something capable of shaking the entire trial.
«Your Honor,» I said in a calm but cutting voice, «I want to present a recording made the night before the first hearing.»
I handed the USB to the clerk, and when the recording began to play, the entire room fell silent. Jessica’s voice was heard: loud, harsh, and cruel. «Sarah, listen carefully. Tomorrow in court, if the judge asks, you have to say that your daddy can’t take care of you anymore. You have to say you don’t want to live with a sick person. Understand?»
Then Sarah’s sob was heard. «But I don’t want to lie, Mom. I love Daddy very much.»
Then Jessica’s voice hardened without mercy. «If you don’t do as I say, we’ll lose everything. Do you want to live miserably with your poor grandmother and your invalid father?»
The room was frozen. All eyes, between astonishment and indignation, were fixed on Jessica. She jumped up, her eyes wide, screaming, «That’s false! She made it all up to defame me!» But her voice trembled, and I saw Jennifer put a hand on her shoulder, asking her to be quiet.
Judge Morales raised his hand and ordered, «Order in the court. I want to hear from the direct witness. Call the child, Sarah Villasenor, to the stand.»
Sarah entered with hesitant steps, her eyes swollen from crying but clean and clear. Seeing her, my heart broke. She was only eight years old, and she already had to stand between truth and lies.
Jessica leaned forward, her voice sweet but laden with pressure. «Sarah, tell everyone you want to be with me, right?»
The entire room held its breath, waiting for her answer. Sarah lifted her tear-filled face. She looked directly at Judge Morales, and with a clear and determined voice, though trembling with emotion, she said, «I love my daddy. I’m not going to lie. I want to be with my daddy and my grandma.»
The room exploded. There were murmurs, and among them, some discreet applause from strangers. Michael burst into tears, hiding his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. I looked at him, and I saw that his tears were not of pain, but of the fragile happiness of knowing his daughter still loved him.
Jessica turned pale and screamed in desperation, «The child is being manipulated! That woman brainwashed her!» Her shrill voice found no ears.
I approached, hugged Sarah’s fragile shoulders, and held her against my chest. I looked Jessica straight in the eye and said coldly, «The truth cannot be manipulated, Jessica. And the child chose the truth.»
Sarah snuggled into me, clinging to my clothes with her small hands, as if I were her only refuge. Judge Morales banged the gavel again and again to calm the room, but I knew the course of the trial had already completely changed.
Jennifer bowed her head, unable to refute anything. Jessica’s family remained motionless, their eyes filled with shame. I looked around and saw compassionate faces, heads bowing in a sign of respect.
Suddenly, Jessica stood up again. Her eyes crazed, and her shrill voice cutting through the silence. «Don’t believe her! She’s nothing but a failed lawyer. She lost a major case so humiliatingly that she had to abandon her profession. Who can trust someone like that?»
Her words exploded like a bomb. The entire room stirred, the murmurs growing like a wave. Some reporters were writing hastily, their pens scratching the paper.
I looked at Michael, who lowered his head, gripping his crutches tightly, as if fearing my past would ruin everything we had achieved. Sarah, beside me, squeezed my hand tightly, her clear eyes reflecting pure worry.
I took a deep breath, feeling my chest burn. Jessica’s words were not just a blow to my honor, but also a desperate attempt to shake the confidence of Michael and Sarah. But I was not afraid. I had faced more venomous insults than that, and I learned to turn pain into strength.
I stood up, walked to the defense table, and fixed my gaze on Judge Morales. My voice sounded strangely calm, but each word was as sharp as a razor. «Yes, I left the law, but not because I was weak.»
«Many years ago, I lost an important case, and it wasn’t due to a lack of skill or evidence, but because my ex-husband and his wealthy lover bribed the judge. Every document, every argument of mine was flawless, but the final verdict was a blatant distortion of justice. My honor was buried under dirty money, and I decided to retire to preserve my dignity.»
The room fell into absolute silence. All eyes were on me, no longer with curiosity or pity, but with deep empathy. Michael lifted his head, his eyes filled with tears, looking at me as if for the first time he understood the whole truth of what I had been through.
I felt Sarah squeeze my hand tighter, and I knew my words were not only defending my honor, but also showing my son and granddaughter that I had never bowed to injustice.
I continued speaking, my voice firm, without trembling. «That judge, years later, was investigated and sentenced to prison on multiple charges of bribery. And, from that day on, I swore that I would never again allow justice to be tarnished. Today I am here not for fame, but for my son, for my granddaughter, and for the truth our family deserves.»
