Chapter 11: The Deposition
Jared’s deposition took place in a glass-walled conference room on the fortieth floor of a downtown firm. He arrived in a dark suit, wedding ring still on his hand, the picture of restrained suffering. Crowe sat beside him. Elena and I sat opposite.
For the first hour Jared performed well. He spoke of my fragility after the pregnancy loss. He claimed the surgery had been a life-saving decision made under extreme pressure. He denied any knowledge of fabricated documents. He denied the affair with Courtney had begun before my hospitalization. He denied, with particular emphasis, any involvement in the loss of the baby.
Elena listened without expression. Then she played the corridor recording.
Jared’s own voice filled the room, calm and precise, instructing the doctor to remove my uterus and invent a diagnosis. The silence that followed was absolute.
Elena did not stop there. She played the second recording—the one from Courtney’s apartment—in which Jared discussed the calculated dosage that had ended my pregnancy and the clean transfer of shares to the unborn child.
Crowe called for a break. Jared did not look at me as he left the room. When they returned, his posture had changed. The performance had collapsed. What remained was a man watching the walls close in.
I spoke only once during the entire session.
May you like
“You told me we would try again,” I said quietly. “While you were still deciding how to make sure I never could.”
Jared’s throat moved, but no sound came out.
