ELENA POV
That night, I actually slept.
For the first time in days, I slept more than a few hours.
The video had changed everything. Brighton's own words. His own voice. Ordering my mother's death.
"Big day tomorrow," the guard said when she brought breakfast. "Closing arguments."
"I know."
"That video yesterday... damn. That was something. Even the news anchors were speechless."
I'd heard about the media coverage. Martina said it was wall-to-wall. Every network playing the video on repeat. Brighton scrambling to respond.
He'd released a statement claiming the video was taken out of context. That he'd been discussing a "hypothetical scenario" with security consultants.
No one believed him.
At 8 AM, they transported me to the courthouse.
The crowds were massive today. Both sides my supporters and Brighton's screaming at each other across the police barricades.
In the holding cell, Martina looked energized. Determined.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
