I collapsed to my knees during an asthma attack, fighting for air while my younger sister held my inhaler just out of reach. She smirked and said, “Gasp, loser.” My parents stood by and did nothing. Today, in court, when the judge said, “Before we begin, let’s watch a family video,” she started shaking—and then screaming.

Diane:
“Good. Keep going. Too much at stake.”

Camille flinched as if each email were a physical blow.

Her attorney tried to object, claiming bias, irrelevance, invasion of privacy—but the judge shut him down with a single raised hand.

The judge’s voice sharpened.

“This is not merely sibling conflict. These communications suggest a multi-year pattern of psychological manipulation and evidence destruction.”

She turned to me.

“Ms. Brooks, would you like to give your testimony now?”

I nodded, steady but shaking inside.

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