Grant, watching the jury’s faces, suddenly stood and shouted across the room, “That audio was completely taken out of context! She edited it!”

I didn’t wait for the judge to gavel him down. I stood slowly from the plaintiff’s table, placed one protective hand over my swollen belly, and looked him dead in the eye.

“Exactly what context, Grant,” I asked, my voice ringing with absolute clarity, “makes starving your pregnant wife of her critical heart medication acceptable?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came. He had no answer. He slowly sank back into his chair, a defeated, broken man.

The prosecuting attorney was merciless. She systematically presented the unauthorized life-insurance increase, the stolen eighty thousand dollars, the damning internet search history, and a horrifying email Grant had sent a real-estate broker asking how quickly a trust-owned property could be liquidated in the event of a spouse’s sudden death.

The forensic nurse, my obstetrician, and the first responding police officers all took the stand, corroborating every detail of my account.