Medical reports.

The original photographs, with their metadata intact.

Text messages.

And a written timeline documenting everything that has happened over the past eleven weeks.” The courtroom became very quiet.

Michael stared at me as though he had never seen me before in his life, as though a stranger had put on his mother’s face, and I confess that his expression almost made me smile, because it told me that my son had genuinely believed his own story.

He had convinced himself that the frail confused woman was real.