Chapter 6 - The Man Who Laughed at My Father
Eight months after my anniversary, I entered the courthouse walking on my own.
Dad offered his arm.
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
“Then stop hovering.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You’re impossible.”
“Family trait.”
The courtroom was packed.
Brandon looked smaller than I remembered.
Melissa wouldn’t look at me.
When Brandon finally took the stand, his attorney tried to make him sound remorseful.
“I made terrible decisions,” Brandon said.
The prosecutor approached.
“Decisions?”
“Yes.”
“You drugged your wife?”
Brandon looked down.
“Yes.”
“Restrained her?”
“Yes.”
“Attempted to force her to transfer control of multiple companies?”
“Yes.”
“Participated in an assault?”
His attorney stood.
“Objection.”
The judge overruled.
Brandon swallowed.
“Yes.”
The prosecutor displayed a photograph of the bracelet.
“And what did you say when Emily called her father?”
Brandon’s face tightened.
“I don’t remember.”
The prosecutor played the recording.
His own voice filled the courtroom.
Tell the old truck driver to come rescue his little girl.
Nobody laughed now.
The prosecutor stopped the audio.
“You remember?”
“Yes.”
“Did you believe Abraham Yates was powerless?”
Brandon glanced toward Dad.
“Yes.”
“And if you had known his real identity?”
His attorney immediately stood.
But the question had already done its job.
Everyone knew the answer.
After closing arguments, we waited.
Hours felt like days.
Finally, the jury returned.
Guilty.
Then another count.
Guilty.
Another.
Guilty.
Melissa was convicted separately based on the recordings, physical evidence, financial records, and witness testimony.
Outside the courthouse, reporters surrounded us.
“Emily!”
“Ms. Yates!”
“Did your father’s reputation influence the case?”
Dad stopped.
I touched his arm.
“I’ll answer.”
I faced the cameras.
“My father didn’t save me because people fear him.”
Dad looked at me.
“He saved me because he listened when I called.”
A reporter shouted another question.
“What happens to your companies?”
“They stay mine.”
“What happens next?”
I thought about it.
Then smiled.
“I go home.”
In the car, Dad was unusually quiet.
“What?”
He looked out the window.
“You called me your father.”
“You are my father.”
“In front of cameras.”
“Don’t get sentimental.”
“I’m not.”
Victor, driving, looked into the mirror.
“He is.”
Dad frowned.
“Drive.”
Victor smiled.
“Yes, boss.”
I laughed.
Dad looked at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Emily.”
“I’m just imagining the terrifying Abraham Yates being embarrassed because his daughter said something nice about him.”
He shook his head.
“Big mistake.”
“What are you going to do?”
Dad considered it.
“Make you eat dinner with me tonight.”
“That’s your threat?”
“I’m getting old.”
For the first time in nearly a year, I laughed without remembering that living room.
And I realized Brandon had taken many things from me.
May you like
But he hadn’t taken that.
---
