Quill,” the prosecutor said.

“Your witness, counselor.”

Jaclyn’s lawyer stepped forward holding a sheet of paper.

“Mrs.

Quill, isn’t it true you’ve personally disliked Miss Briggs from the moment your son introduced her?”

“My personal opinions don’t matter,” I said, keeping my voice even.

“The video time stamps show she moved my grandson out into the yard at midnight on four separate dates while my son was working his rig rotation in North Dakota.”

“You were away in Ireland when this happened,” the lawyer pushed.