Chapter 168: 168

CHAPTER 168

EMILY

The courthouse looked even larger than I remembered.

Its towering stone pillars stretched toward the gray morning sky while television crews and journalists crowded the entrance, their cameras already pointed at every vehicle that pulled into the parking lot.

Reporters spoke excitedly into microphones, each trying to be the first to break another update in what had quickly become one of the country's biggest criminal cases.

I tightened my grip on Zara's hand before we stepped out of the car.

The moment we appeared, camera shutters began clicking from every direction.

"Emily!"

"Miss Thompson!"

"Can you tell us how you're feeling today?"

"Do you believe justice will finally be served?"

I kept my eyes forward.

Ryan had warned me this would happen.

The story of a woman discovering she'd been switched at birth, reunited with one of the wealthiest families in Hong Kong, while the woman responsible stood trial for kidnapping, fraud, and decades of deception, had become irresistible to the media.

Thankfully, security officers quickly formed a path through the crowd, allowing us to enter the courthouse without answering a single question.

The noise outside disappeared almost immediately after the heavy doors closed behind us.

Inside, everything felt different.

The polished marble floors echoed beneath our footsteps as people moved through the hallways in hushed conversations, each carrying stacks of files beneath their arms.

My grandmother walked beside me with the same confidence she carried into every room, although I noticed the way she occasionally glanced toward me as if checking whether I was holding up.

My mother stayed close on my other side, while Hazel tried distracting Zara by pointing out the enormous national emblem hanging above the main hallway.

"It looks like something from Barbie," Zara whispered.

Hazel smiled.

"It kind of does."

I couldn't help smiling too.

When we reached Courtroom Three, the hallway outside was already crowded.

Lawyers stood discussing files.

Journalists waited behind the barriers the court had erected.

Several curious members of the public had managed to secure seats inside after the hearing became open to spectators.

A court officer eventually pushed open the large wooden doors.

"The court is now open."

Everyone slowly filed inside.

The courtroom was even quieter than the hallway.

Dark wooden benches stretched across the room while the judge's bench towered above everyone else, a constant reminder that once proceedings began, every word spoken inside these walls carried weight.

I sat beside my mother, with Zara between us.

My grandmother occupied the seat on my other side, her posture perfectly straight as she calmly observed everyone entering the courtroom.

Almost instinctively, my eyes searched the room.

They landed on Ryan.

Although they sat beside one another, they looked like strangers. The silence between them somehow felt louder than any argument ever could.

Ryan must have sensed me watching because he turned his head slightly.

Our eyes met.

Neither of us smiled.

We didn't need to.

A small nod passed between us instead.

A silent reminder that we were here.

Together.

My gaze shifted toward the defense table.

My breath caught.

Cecilia looked older than I remembered.

The expensive dresses had been replaced by a plain detention uniform, her perfectly styled hair had lost some of its shine, and exhaustion lined her face in ways I'd never noticed before.

Despite everything she'd done...

Despite every lie she'd built her life upon...

A part of me still remembered the woman who had comforted me after my foster mother died.

I remembered the rides home from school after knowing I was her son’s girlfriend.

For years...

I'd believed they were acts of love.

Now I didn't know what they were.

Maybe some of it had been real.

Maybe none of it had.

Either way...

Seeing her sitting there waiting to be tried for crimes that had changed the course of my entire life didn't bring me satisfaction.

Only sadness.

The courtroom suddenly fell silent as the bailiff stepped forward.

"All rise."

Everyone immediately stood.

The side door opened, and the judge entered before taking his seat behind the bench.

"You may be seated."

The sound of chairs moving echoed briefly before silence returned.

The judge adjusted the file before him and looked toward the prosecution.

"Counsel, you may proceed."

The lead prosecutor rose to his feet.

"Your Honor, today the State brings multiple charges against the defendant, Cecilia Thompson, including the unlawful removal and concealment of a newborn child, conspiracy to commit fraud, identity deception extending over several decades, interference with lawful parental rights, and additional offenses connected to an ongoing pattern of manipulation intended to deprive the victim of her biological family and inheritance."

Each charge landed like another stone on my chest.

The prosecutor continued outlining the allegations while the clerk formally recorded them.

When he finished, the judge turned toward Cecilia.

"Mrs. Thompson, how do you plead to these charges?"

Cecilia rose slowly.

Her lawyer placed a reassuring hand on her arm before she lifted her chin.

"Not guilty, Your Honor."

The trial had officially begun.

The prosecution immediately began outlining the evidence they intended to present, introducing certified hospital records, DNA reports confirming my biological identity, decades-old employment documents, financial records, and witness statements collected during the investigation.

Every new document seemed to tighten the atmosphere inside the courtroom.

Cecilia's attorney objected several times, arguing that portions of the evidence required additional scrutiny, but after reviewing the submissions, the judge admitted the majority of them into evidence.

By the time the prosecution finished its opening presentation, the murmurs throughout the courtroom had become impossible to ignore.

Even people with no legal training could see how overwhelming the evidence already appeared.

The judge eventually looked over the courtroom before adjusting his glasses.

"This matter is adjourned until the next sitting, where the court will proceed with witness testimony and further examination of the evidence."

The gavel struck once.

Court officers immediately moved toward Cecilia.

She was uncuffed from the security rail before being instructed to stand.

For the first time that morning...

She looked directly at me.

The hatred in her eyes stole the air from my lungs. There wasn't an ounce of regret in her expression.

It was as though every terrible thing that had happened to her was somehow my fault.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the wooden bench as she continued staring at me, refusing to look away even while the officers urged her toward the courtroom doors.

Before I could react, my grandmother stepped in front of me.

She didn't raise her voice.

She didn't say a single word.

She simply placed herself between us, meeting Cecilia's glare with one of her own, her back shielding me completely as though silently reminding the entire courtroom that if anyone wanted to come for her granddaughter, they would have to go through her first.

For the first time since I'd met Vivian Cavendish, I wasn't looking at a ruthless businesswoman.

I was looking at a grandmother.

And somehow...

That felt even more terrifying.

Cecilia's lips curled into a bitter smile before the officers finally led her through the courtroom doors.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind her.

Only then did my grandmother turn to look at me.

"Don't worry, darling," she said softly, smoothing a strand of hair away from my face. "She won't touch you again."