👉 Previous decision: You chose to corner Julian alone inside your cramped Craigslist studio room.
Julian sat down, crossing one leg over the other, his gaze sweeping over the threadbare rug. He still had that pitying smile.
“Mother, we really need to talk about your recent behavior,” he began, his voice laced with concern.
I reached for a small stack of documents I had placed on the rickety table between us. I slid them across.
First, Lena’s sworn testimony. Its first page, detailing Julian’s intentional financial fraud, faced him.
His eyes flickered down, then back up to me. The smile tightened. “What is this, Evelyn? Some kind of joke?”
Next, I pushed my old smartphone across the table. The screen showed the timestamp of the recording.
“That’s a recording of you and Arthur Phelan,” I said, my voice unwavering. “Stamping those offshore deeds. Mocking my mental state.”
Julian’s face went slack. The practiced concern evaporated. His jaw muscles twitched.
“This is insane,” he mumbled, his eyes darting to the door. “You’re delusional.”
“No, Julian,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “This is evidence. Evidence that proves you drained my accounts, conspired with Phelan, and deliberately gaslit me.”
He picked up Lena’s affidavit, his fingers shaking slightly. His eyes scanned the precise details of his deceit.
“Lena described everything,” I said, leaning forward. “The backdated forms. The engineered financial ruin. Even how you moved my keys to confuse me.”
Julian dropped the paper. His gaze fell to the floor, his shoulders slumping. The charade was over.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 7A to continue the story
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