Chapter 6: The Trial
The trial began three months later.
Beate sat in the witness box wearing a simple black dress, her hands resting on her now very round belly. Leo was due in six weeks. The courtroom was quiet except for the sound of the judge’s pen and the occasional cough from the gallery.
Gero sat at the defense table in a neat suit, looking like the successful businessman everyone outside this room believed him to be. His lawyer had tried to paint Beate as unstable, hormonal, and unreliable.
Beate looked straight at the judge and told the truth.
“He hit me fifty times with his belt because dinner was fifteen minutes late,” she said. “I counted every strike. I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming because screaming made it worse.”
The courtroom was silent.
She continued.
“He never hit my face. He was careful. He told me it was my fault. He told me I was lucky he didn’t do worse. He told me no one would believe me if I spoke.”
Her voice did not break.
She had practiced this in therapy for weeks.
When the prosecutor showed the nursery camera video, the courtroom gasped.
Fifty lashes.
Clear as day.
Gero’s face remained blank, but his hands clenched under the table.
Beate looked at him for the first time.
“You told me I was nothing,” she said. “But I am here. And I am speaking.”
The judge called a short recess.
Beate walked out of the courtroom with her father on one side and her hand on her belly.
May you like
The trial had begun.
But the truth was already winning.
