Chapter 35 Trial Preparation

Chapter 35 Trial Preparation
Amelia Noah POV

The video call connects at exactly 9 AM—Andreas Papadopoulos is nothing if not punctual. His face fills my laptop screen: sharp suit, graying temples, eyes that have seen too many victims and not enough justice.
"Miss Noah. Are you ready?"
"No," I say honestly. "But let's do this anyway."
Behind him, I can see his Athens office—law books, case files stacked high, a window overlooking the city where I almost died six months ago. In one month, I'll be back there. Testifying. Facing David across a courtroom.
"Good answer. Honest." Andreas pulls up files on his screen. "We have four weeks until trial. Today, I'm going to tell you exactly what defense will do to you on that stand. It won't be pleasant. But you need to know what's coming."
Kate sits beside me, armed with coffee and a legal pad. She's been to every preparation session, taking notes like she's studying for the bar exam. My sister, the fierce protector.
"I'm ready," I lie.
"You're not. But that's okay—no one ever is." Andreas leans forward. "Miss Noah, the defense will destroy you. They will call you attention-seeking, money-hungry, mentally unstable. They will question why you didn't leave immediately after reading that newspaper article. They will suggest you wanted the relationship and are now reframing it as assault because he rejected you or because you see financial opportunity."
"But I have the recording—"
"Which they'll claim is edited, manipulated, or taken out of context. They'll suggest you seduced him into false confession for your book deal." He doesn't blink. "They'll bring up every ex-boyfriend, every therapy session, every moment you drank alcohol or made a mistake. Marcus will testify about your 'instability' after your breakup. Your former boss will be questioned about your leave from work. Every social media post will be analyzed. Your entire life will be on trial."
Kate's hand finds mine. "That's not legal—"
"It's not ethical. But it's standard defense strategy in cases like this." Andreas pulls up a document. "They've subpoenaed your medical records, employment history, financial statements, dating app messages from three years ago. Everything. Charles Pemberton QC is one of the most expensive defense attorneys in Europe. He's very good at making victims look like liars."
My throat is tight. "How do I fight that?"
"You don't fight. You stay calm. Stick to facts. Don't engage with speculation." Andreas's voice gentles slightly. "I've been preparing witnesses for thirty years. Here's what I need you to understand: Pemberton's job is to make the jury doubt you. He'll twist your words, attack your character, make you angry so you lose composure. The moment you lose control, he wins. So you don't lose control."
"How?"
"Practice. We're going to do mock cross-examinations until you can answer the worst questions without flinching." He glances at notes. "Let's start. Why didn't you leave immediately after reading the newspaper article on June fourteenth?"
"Because I needed proof—"
"Why? Why not just call police and leave?"
"Because without proof—"
"Were you afraid he'd hurt you if you left? Or were you afraid he'd reject you?"
I pause. See the trap. "I was afraid he'd kill me before I could escape. I needed evidence to ensure his arrest."
"But you stayed with him. Had dinner with him. According to your own testimony, you kissed him. That doesn't sound like fear. That sounds like a woman in a relationship."
My pulse races. Kate squeezes my hand harder.
"I maintained the appearance of normalcy to avoid alerting him to my suspicions. It was a survival strategy."
"Or it was a relationship you regretted after the fact." Andreas doesn't smile. "See how he'll twist it? Every reasonable choice you made becomes evidence of lying. You need to stay calm and restate the truth without engaging his narrative."
We practice for two hours. Every question is designed to make me defensive, angry, ashamed:
You work in marketing—isn't creating narratives your specialty?
You have a book deal worth six figures—isn't that convenient timing?
Your father abandoned you at twelve—don't you have a pattern of seeking male validation?
You described yourself in your journal as 'broken'—isn't this about blaming men for your problems?
By the end, I'm exhausted. But I'm also better. More controlled. Less reactive.
"Good," Andreas finally says. "That's exactly what I need. Now let's talk about defense strategy."
He pulls up presentation slides. This is where it gets worse.
"The defense isn't denying David had relationships with these women. They're reframing them as consensual BDSM relationships where rough photography and power dynamics were negotiated. The silk scarves were props. The tracking was relationship monitoring both parties agreed to. The intimate photos were part of kink documentation."
Kate makes a strangled noise. "That's insane—"
"That's defense strategy. They'll call expert witnesses on BDSM culture who'll testify about consent negotiations, safe words, documentation as normal practice. They'll claim the women's deaths were tragic suicides or accidents unrelated to David. They'll paint his grief and documentation as normal mourning behavior for someone who lost multiple partners."
"He murdered them," I say flatly.
"We know that. But the jury needs to believe it beyond reasonable doubt. And Pemberton is very good at creating doubt." Andreas moves to next slide. "The prosecution's case rests on three pillars: pattern, premeditation, and your testimony. The pattern—eight women, same method, same timeline. Premeditation—the scarves, the stalking, the planning. Your testimony—the recording, the documentation, the survival."
"What if the jury doesn't believe me?"
"Then David walks free and kills again within a year." Andreas doesn't soften it. "That's the stakes. Eight families are depending on you to hold up under Pemberton's assault. You're the only living victim who can testify to his methods. Anna de Vries's case is too old, too compromised. You're our strongest witness. You cannot break on that stand."
The weight of it crushes my chest. Kate's arm comes around my shoulders.
"I won't break," I manage.
"I believe you. But we need to prepare for every attack vector." Andreas pulls up more files. "They've subpoenaed three of your ex-boyfriends. Marcus will testify you were 'emotionally unstable' after your breakup. The defense will use your dating history to paint you as desperate for male attention, prone to dramatic narratives about relationships."
"That's victim-blaming—"
"Yes. And it's legal. They'll bring up your therapy sessions—argue that someone in therapy is inherently unstable. They'll mention you took sleeping pills after Greece—evidence of mental instability. Everything you did to heal will be used as evidence you're unreliable."
"How do we counter that?"
"By being prepared. By knowing what's coming. By not letting them see you react." Andreas softens slightly. "Miss Noah, you're the strongest witness I've worked with. You documented everything. You recorded confession. You maintained composure through depositions. You can do this. But it will be brutal."
We review evidence for another hour: Frame 217, the scarves, the laptop data, the financial records. Every piece of proof will be attacked. Every certainty will be questioned.
"The trial will last approximately two weeks," Andreas explains. "Jury selection, opening statements, prosecution case, defense case, closing arguments. You'll testify approximately day seven—midpoint of prosecution's case. You'll be on the stand for at least two days. One day of direct examination from me. One to two days of cross-examination from Pemberton."
"Two days of him attacking me."
"Yes. But you'll have breaks. We'll ask for recesses if you need them. And you'll have support—Kate can be in the courtroom, Emily Oliver, Dr. Mitchell, the victims' families."
"Will David be there? In the courtroom?"
"Yes. Greek law requires defendant's presence. He'll be there every day." Andreas pauses. "He'll watch you testify. He'll hear everything. Are you prepared for that?"
I think about Frame 217. About his confession. About the monastery cliff where he tried to kill me.
"I've faced him before. I can do it again."
"Good. Because there's one more thing." Andreas's face goes grim. "David will testify in his own defense."
The room tilts. "What?"
"Pemberton advised against it—defendant testimony is risky. But David insisted. His narcissism won't allow silence. He wants to explain himself, justify his actions, perform for the jury. He genuinely believes he can convince them he's innocent."
"He's not innocent—"
"We know. But he'll be compelling. Charming. Sympathetic. Everything you fell for, the jury will see. We need to be prepared for that."
Kate's voice is steel. "She can handle it."
"I know she can. But it will be difficult." Andreas looks directly at me through the screen. "Miss Noah, when David takes that stand, he will look at you. He will speak to you. He will try to manipulate you one more time. You cannot react. You cannot engage. You sit there with perfect composure and let him hang himself with his own words. Can you do that?"
I remember Dr. Chen's guidance. Margaret Thornton's testimony. The eight families waiting for justice.
"Yes. I can do that."
"Then we have a chance." Andreas starts closing files. "Trial begins December fifteenth. You'll fly to Athens December tenth for final preparation. We'll do more mock examinations, review testimony, coordinate with other witnesses. You'll stay in secure location—David's family has resources, there are security concerns."
"Threats?"
"Potential harassment. Social media attacks. His supporters believe he's innocent—some are vocal about it. We're taking precautions." He pauses. "One more thing. You'll deliver victim impact statement after conviction—if we get conviction. Have you thought about what you'll say?"
"Every day."
"Good. The families will speak first. Then you. Your words will be last thing the jury hears before sentencing. Make them count."
After we end the call, I sit staring at blank screen. Kate's still taking notes, organizing information like she can control the chaos through perfect documentation.
"You okay?" she asks without looking up.
"No. But I will be." I stand, stretch, feel the weight of preparation settling into my bones. "Four weeks until I face him again. Four weeks to become strong enough to withstand Pemberton's attack."
"You're already strong enough—"
My phone buzzes. Email from Andreas. Subject line: Defense Subpoena - Urgent
I open it with dread already pooling in my stomach.
Amelia - Defense just filed subpoena for Marcus Chen (your ex-boyfriend) as character witness. They plan to question him about your emotional state during relationship, your reaction to breakup, any "unstable" behaviors. He's fighting it but may be compelled to testify. Wanted you aware. Preparing counter-strategy. - Andreas
I read it twice. Then show Kate.
"That motherfucker," she breathes. "They're bringing Marcus to Athens to testify about your 'instability' after he cheated on you for eight months?"
"They're using my heartbreak against me. Every human reaction to betrayal will be framed as mental illness." I laugh bitterly. "I cried after my boyfriend cheated. Therefore I'm too unstable to be believed about attempted murder. Perfect logic."
"Andreas will destroy that narrative—"
"But the damage will be done. The jury will hear 'emotionally unstable' and 'prone to dramatic narratives' and doubt will creep in." I set my phone down carefully. "This is what David does. What he's always done. Turn victims into villains. Make everyone question their own sanity."
"You're not questioning yours though. Right?"
I meet her eyes. "I know what happened. I know what he is. I know I'm telling the truth. The question is: will twelve strangers believe me or believe a charming British photographer with expensive lawyers?"
"They'll believe you. Because you're telling the truth and he's a serial killer."
"I hope you're right." I pull out my own notepad—the journal I've been keeping throughout this process. "I need to write. Document everything before trial. Get it all down while it's still clear."
"For the book?"
"For myself. So when Pemberton attacks me on that stand, I can remember: I'm not crazy. I'm not lying. I survived. That's real."
Kate hugs me tight. "You're the realest person I know. Don't let them take that from you."
But as I sit down to write, I can't shake the image: Marcus on the witness stand. Pemberton asking sympathetic questions. Marcus describing my tears, my anger, my heartbreak after his betrayal. All of it twisted into evidence of instability.
My phone buzzes again. Text from Emily: Saw the subpoena news. Want to practice testimony together? Survivor support session?
Me: Yes. Tomorrow. Your place or mine?
Emily: Neutral coffee shop. Can't have trauma responses in either of our actual homes.
Me: Smart. 2pm?
Emily: See you there. We've got this.
I set my phone down. Four weeks until trial. Four weeks until I face David in a courtroom and eight families watch me testify about the man who murdered their daughters.
Four weeks until justice or failure.
Surviving was the easy part.
This is the battle.