The witness pointed toward the back row.

Everyone turned.

An older man in a dark suit stood slowly.

The defendant’s face collapsed.

“Dad?”

The courtroom erupted in whispers.

The witness started crying.

“He made me lie.”

The defendant stared at his father.

“You told me she was afraid of me.”

His father said nothing.

The attorney looked between them.

“What did he make you lie about?”

The witness swallowed.

“The night she died.”

The prosecutor suddenly stepped forward.

“Your Honor, I request a recess.”

The attorney turned sharply.

“No.”

Then he looked at the witness.

“Finish it.”

She nodded through tears.

“She called me that night.”

“What did she say?”

“That she had proof.”

“Proof of what?”

The witness looked at the defendant’s father.

“He’d been moving money through her accounts for years.”

The defendant went pale.

“My father?”

“She found everything.”

The attorney’s voice lowered.

“And ten minutes later, she recorded that video.”

The witness nodded.

The defendant looked at his father.

“You killed her?”

His father finally spoke.

“No.”

Everyone froze.

The witness stared at him.

He continued,

“I went there to stop her from exposing me.”

The attorney stepped closer.

“Then who killed her?”

The older man looked toward the prosecutor.

For the first time, the prosecutor’s face changed.

The witness covered her mouth.

The defendant whispered,

“No…”

His father pointed across the courtroom.

“She was still alive when I left.”

Then he looked directly at the prosecutor.

“And he was the one who came in after me.”