Chapter 7 - The Deposition
A month later, I was called to give a formal deposition in the district attorney’s office.
My parents were sitting across the long mahogany table, flanked by their expensive lawyer. They looked exhausted. Dad’s hair had gone gray at the temples. Mom wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Clara," my dad said, his voice cracking as soon as I sat down. "Please, sweetheart. You're destroying this family. Just tell them you exaggerated. We'll send you to that writing camp. We'll pay for everything. Just don't let them send your sister to prison."
He wasn't sorry for what happened to me. He was just sorry Vanessa was facing consequences.
Martha, who was sitting right behind me, placed a warm, steady hand on my good shoulder.
I looked my father dead in the eyes.
"You didn't protect me, Dad," I said, my voice eerily calm. "You watched her break my bones, and you covered it up because she was the popular one. She was the athlete. I was just the punching bag."
"That's not true!" Mom sobbed into a tissue.
May you like
"It is true," I replied. "And I don't need you to pay for my writing fellowship. I earned a full scholarship. I am going to New York, and I am never coming back to your house."
I turned to the DA and answered every single question clearly, concisely, and without a drop of hesitation. I gave them every nail they needed for Vanessa's coffin.
