7 Chapter 7
The court descended into chaos. (1
My mother’s body went rigid for a split second before she hugged her back.
Zahra fought and screamed, but they strapped her into the chair and fitted the neural
scanner to her head.
I just stared at them, numb. The judge was calling for the jury’s final vote.
“Your parents both purchased life insurance policies with you as the sole beneficiary. The
total payout is five million dollars. Until you come of age, the money will be managed by
your new legal guardians.”
They knelt on the floor, tears streaming down their faces.
The punishment had been clear from the start. If I lost, I died. If they lost, they faced life in
prison.
The first half of my life had been an endless night. Now, I was finally stepping out of the
dark.
I stood up. “Your Honor, I request to extract the memories of Zahra Naziri.”
“I’m so sorry, Layla, Mommy was confused!” my mother cried out.
The lawyer continued, “But they only have stewardship. They have no legal right to spend this money. When you turn eighteen, you will have full control of the entire sum.”
The lights on the jury panel lit up.
My father called out to her warmly, giving my mother a subtle look.
From now on, my life would be just like the California sun-bright and cloudless.
“I’m sorry, Layla,” my father said, his face pale. “Please, forgive us.”
Watching it all, I could only laugh.
I walked out of the courtroom, leaving all the noise behind me.
I used to grovel for their phantom love, making myself small enough to fit into the cracks
they left for me.
My mother understood immediately, rushing forward to pull Zahra into a warm embrace.
Zahra quickly relaxed, leaning against my mother.
For years, I could never understand what had made them change so drastically. I thought
it was guilt, a sense of responsibility.
“Take this liar away!” my father bellowed. “She’s the one who should be punished!”
How ironic.
One hundred votes. Not guilty.
The scene changed again. Zahra was standing hesitantly at our front door.
The memory shifted. The door was slightly ajar, and my parents were standing behind it,
their faces stunned. They had clearly been eavesdropping.
A lawyer was placing a document in front of a younger Zahra.
Guards led my weeping parents and the stone-faced Zahra away.
I felt no joy. There was a part of me that knew forgiving them might reduce their
sentences. But I couldn’t. They had never, not once, considered sparing me.
I never imagined it was just about the money.
The judge was silent for a moment, then nodded his assent.
The sun outside was brilliant.
An image appeared on the screen.
Now I finally understood that the only romance that truly lasts a lifetime is the one you build with yourself.
