After I saved my husband’s life, he tried to take it all — yet my daughter caught the courtroom off guard: “I want to show you something that Mom doesn’t know about.”
It was from a video file.
It now had a cracked corner.
The date stamp was from two weeks before my surgery.
My stomach dropped.
The bailiff pressed play.
Nick was sitting in our living room. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, speaking in a low voice.
We couldn’t see who he was talking to, but the voice sounded like a woman’s.
“I’m telling you,” Nick said in the recording, “once the transplant’s done, I’ll finally be free.”
The courtroom went silent.
We couldn’t see who he was talking to.
Nick’s lawyer tried to object, but the judge shut him down.
