His Lesson Killed My Mother Now He Will Pay Chapter 55
Sloane’s attorney quickly changed tactics.
No longer claiming she had authorization, he argued instead that my mother’s handwritten drafts had no fixed date and could have been written after Sloane’s courses were removed.
For the first time, I was required to bring the originals into court.
Wearing gloves, the clerk laid the pages one by one on the evidence table.
The paper was yellowed at the edges, with a few spots blurred by moisture. My mother’s handwriting started out neat and became faintly shaky in the later drafts, when the pain in her wrist grew worse.
Opposing counsel lifted one page.
“There is no notarization here. No publication record. Ms. Reyes, how do you prove these weren’t written later?”
“By themselves, I can’t.”
The corner of Sloane’s mouth had just started to lift when Aisha opened the backend archive of the old system.
The questions from the handwritten drafts already existed in the original version when it first went live.
The edit log showed my account as the editor. Beside it was another account making margin comments, marked only with my mother’s initials.
The system had later gone offline, but the original platform had preserved its data under the evidence order.
And this archive was not appearing for the first time today.
It had been listed from the beginning in the same fifty-page evidence inventory filed during Sloane’s first suit.
Aisha then projected Sloane’s own course backend.
The exact same question, in the old system, prompted the user to confirm their safety and seek help.
In Sloane’s version, the feedback had been rewritten as: *Stop rescuing. Let her bear the consequences.*
She had kept the question, reversed the answer, and packaged harm as originality.
The judge looked at Sloane.
“Does the plaintiff have any earlier record of creation?”
Her attorney stood there for a long moment.
“No.”