“She knew the strict rules of my house!” Vivian snapped, her facade cracking.

“And the standard punishment for tardiness was hurling boiling stock onto her chest?”

Cornered and panicking, Vivian frantically looked toward the defense table, begging her son for help.

Daniel, sensing the ship was sinking, slowly lowered his eyes to the floor, refusing to look at her.

That single act of cowardly abandonment broke Vivian completely.

Right there on the stand, the pious mother transformed into a rabid dog. She began violently screaming that the entire plot had been Daniel’s idea.

She yelled that he’d begged her to terrorize me—to keep me frightened, dependent, and perpetually medicated so he could steal the money.