From inside my coat I took a small black voice recorder.
Michael’s face shifted.
Only a little.
His jaw locked.
Rachel froze where she sat.
Their lawyer saw it at once.
Gregory Walsh stood.
“Your Honor, if Mrs. Parker intends to introduce an audio recording, we would first need to establish its admissibility and—”
Judge Bennett raised one hand.
“You’ll have your opportunity, Mr. Walsh.”
Then he looked at me.
“Mrs. Parker?”
I set the recorder down with care.
“These are conversations recorded inside my own home.”
Michael bent toward Gregory and murmured something.
Gregory shook his head.
“I also have bank statements, property records, medical reports, original photographs with metadata, text messages, and a written timeline documenting the past eleven weeks.”
The courtroom went quiet.
Michael looked at me as if I were a stranger.
