My Fake Death Was The Punchline To His Cruel Joke Chapter 26
Before the trial began, they made one last settlement offer.
This time, the amount was five times higher.
They no longer asked for the album to be destroyed. They only asked that the video from test ninety-nine be sealed.
“If that footage is played in open court, it will destroy families,” their attorney argued.
I looked at him.
“The thing that was almost destroyed was my life.”
“Ms. Ortiz, some of my clients didn’t physically touch you that night.”
“But every single one of them was holding a phone.”
The attorney had no response.
I rejected the settlement.
On the first day of the trial, the judge allowed edited portions of the evidence to be shown.
I sat in the witness box and heard the soft clink of porcelain.
On the screen, Camille uncapped the vial.
I saw myself step back.
I saw Bennett grab my wrist.
I saw two men pin me from behind.
I saw the circle of friends, a sea of phones held high.
Even though I had watched the clip a dozen times, when the woman on the screen—the ghost of me—began to struggle for air, my hands began to shake.
Leo was in the front row. He didn’t speak. He just pressed a hand to his chest.
It was a signal we’d had since we were kids.