It is entirely inconsistent with an attack by a second party. It is, quite simply, staged.”

Evan’s carefully constructed world was incinerating in real time. And the fire was about to spread to the gallery.

Julian presented the subpoenaed digital footprint. Marissa’s sworn affidavit collapsed first. Julian displayed security-camera footage from our neighbor’s estate, proving Marissa was physically entering my home with Evan on the exact day and time she claimed I was threatening her across town in a parking garage.

Then came Vivian’s turn. Julian submitted cellular geolocation records obtained from the telecom company. They proved that on the night Vivian swore she’d witnessed me “harming myself,” her phone was pinging a cell tower in Aspen, Colorado, where she was attending a spa retreat.

Cornered, stripped of his lies, facing total ruin, Evan snapped. The polished veneer cracked.

He bolted upright, knocking his heavy chair backward with a crash. “She orchestrated this!” he screamed, pointing a shaking finger at me, his face contorted.