CHAPTER 233: DECISION TIME

Final Day of Trial – Afternoon Session. Defense Rebuttal

The courtroom was thick with tension. The prosecutor’s counterattack had planted doubt, and the jury had seen everything—the photos, the timelines, the tears. It was time for Ethan’s last stand.

Ethan stood slowly, buttoned his jacket, and stepped to the center of the courtroom. His voice, when it came, was quiet, but every word landed like a stone.

"Let me tell you a story," he began. "It’s about a woman."

He paced slowly, addressing the jury directly.

"She ran away from everything she knew, her home, her family, her name, because a man promised to destroy her. A man who beat her, stalked her, and wouldn’t let her live. She became a shadow, living paycheck to paycheck, raising a sick baby alone. She never asked for pity. She asked to survive."

He stopped in front of the jury box.

"This case isn’t about her decisions. It’s about her desperation. About a woman forced to choose between letting her daughter be abused or fighting back."

He pointed gently toward Maria, who sat with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "She’s not perfect. But she’s not a murderer."

Ethan turned back to the jury.

"You’ve been shown photos—gruesome, emotional, horrifying. But those photos don’t tell you what it felt like in that moment. They don’t tell you the sound of a baby screaming, the panic of a mother being choked, or the smell of fear when you know the world is about to take everything from you."

He paused, letting the silence stretch.

"This woman," he said, "made mistakes. She also made sacrifices. But she made them for the one thing that matters most—her daughter. Not out of rage. Not out of cruelty. But out of fear."

Ethan’s voice cracked, just slightly. He didn’t hide it.

"And now you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury—you get to decide what justice looks like. Is it punishment for a mother who fought for her child? Or is it mercy? Truth? Compassion?"

He stepped back. "Maria-Isabel Williams Lewis is not a killer. She is a survivor."

He sat down. The courtroom held its breath.

___

Mara sat in the plane, motionless. The low hum of the engines vibrated beneath her, a steady noise that somehow made the silence inside her even louder. She stared blankly out of the window, but the clouds outside blurred with the memories rushing in — memories of laughter, of stolen lipstick and shared secrets, of two girls dreaming in the dark under bedsheets, talking about love like it was magic. Mara and Maria Isabel. Sisters not by blood, but by everything else that mattered.

But now, all Mara could feel was a bitter storm inside her chest. She was angry. She was hurt. And beneath all that, she hated her. God, she hated her.

A trembling breath left her lips as she closed her eyes, forcing herself to confront the ache that never really left. She remembered the warnings and how many times she had pleaded with Maria to avoid Daniel. "He’s not good for you," she had said, over and over, until her voice had broken like glass. And Maria — stubborn, wild, romantic Maria — had chosen him anyway. Chosen him over her.

The betrayal stung sharper than the day it happened. And Mara hated herself for it.

She had saved her. Pulled her out from under Daniel when his hands turned cruel and his love turned rotten. And for what? For her to turn around and have an affair with her husband?

The weight of that night collapsed over her again. The way her world cracked in silence, no screaming, just an awful stillness in her bones when she found out. She had wanted to scream then. Wanted to tear Maria’s face out of her heart, rip Ethan’s name out of her skin.

Instead, she didn’t. She fled, and she shut it all away. And now Maria might die. Because she defended herself from that monster. Because maybe—just maybe—no one else ever really did.

Mara’s hand curled tightly against her chest, her fingers trembling. Her heart hurt. Physically hurt. Like something inside her was breaking all over again. Her stomach turned at the thought of what lay ahead — courts, accusations, justice that rarely felt just.

And then came the guilt. The suffocating, soul-splitting guilt.

Maybe if I hadn’t left her... Maybe if I had tried harder to show her who Daniel really was... Maybe if I had stayed, instead of walking away after she married him...

A thousand maybes clawed at her like ghosts. Her eyes burned, but she wouldn’t let the tears fall.

She had once vowed to protect Maria like a sister. The same way Maria had once stood between her and the world when her adoptive family turned cold and cruel. They had both been broken girls pretending to be whole, and for a while, they had held each other together. But then came the fights — over boys, over dreams, over fears they never knew how to voice. Jealousy disguised as anger. Distance disguised as growing up. What they really were... were two girls afraid to be abandoned.

And I did abandon her, Mara thought. I left her to her fate. She should have known trauma doesn’t just vanish. That love twisted by pain can turn into something poisonous. She should’ve urged Maria to seek help. To heal. Not just survive.

But I didn’t.

She bit her lower lip hard, grounding herself in the sting. A part of her told her it wasn’t all her fault. Maria was a grown woman. Those choices—terrible, destructive choices—were hers alone to make.

But Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that she had failed her. That, when Maria needed her most, she wasn’t there.

Not really. Now, it felt like the last thread to a past that hurt too much to remember and too much to forget.

The plane began its descent. The city lights rose to meet them like watchful eyes. In a few hours, everything could change. And Mara wasn’t sure if she was ready to face whatever came next or the girl she used to be, the friend she used to love, the choices she couldn’t undo.

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