— anwhile - ??? - 2024 —
A young woman frantically walked toward her car as a crowd of reporters surrounded her. Her blond hair was slightly disheveled from the stress she'd endured over the past few days - both from the court proceedings she had to attend and the sudden shift in public opinion against her.
This all began four years ago when she was robbed by a man. Another man - who looked like an ordinary office worker and sowhat of a pushover - had co to help her. At that ti, she was a staunch supporter of the prevalent feminist and progressive movents.
In that mont, she felt insulted. Coupled with the humiliation and helplessness of being robbed by a man, she didn't even thank her rescuer out of spite. Later, safe at ho in front of her computer, she vented her frustrations online, trashing the entire incident and even the man who had helped her. She accused him of sexism for assuming she needed help in the first place.
At the ti... she genuinely believed this. To maintain her reputation among followers who saw her as championing a better world and fighting for won's rights, she doubled down on these views.
Now... she was guilty of all that hubris.
"Ms. Jones!" a reporter shouted as she pushed through the crowd. "When you left the man who saved you from a robber to die, how did you feel that day? Do you think he deserved to die because he was sexist, as you claid in your video?" The young woman ignored the question and kept moving toward her car.
"Ms. Jones! What's your response to the wrongful death lawsuit and involuntary manslaughter charges? Ms. Jones!" She quickly entered the vehicle and slamd the door, blocking any further attempts at interviews.
How strange... Four years ago, before the incident, she would have welcod this dia attention - using the caras as a platform to promote her movent and ideals. But now?
Now she saw them only as vultures, circling to pick her clean, baiting her for sensational soundbites that could worsen her legal situation. They were nothing but greedy scavengers!
And as that reporter had said... she had left that man to die. But she knew herself - she wasn't a saint, but she would never have done such a thing intentionally!
Her mind wandered back to the courtroom she'd just left. During her defense, the prosecutor had asked: "Defendant, during the incident, did you bear any resentnt toward the victim?"
The screen clearly showed the evidence being played - the video displayed the man who helped her getting stabbed. Despite his injury, he still managed to beat the robber until he retreated, then picked up her handbag from the ground and returned it to her.
The man clutched his stomach, trying his best to smile. From this cara angle, the footage didn't clearly show his injury.
In the video, she disdainfully took her handbag back and quickly left without even glancing at him. She even used her bag to brush him off, causing him to lose balance and fall to the ground. He appeared to try getting up, but blood slowly seeped from his wound until he eventually stopped moving. Then the video paused.
"From the video, Mr. Graham was still fully conscious. He even returned your handbag to you. This shows that... had he received help, there was a high chance he would have survived," the prosecutor stated before rewinding the video to the mont she pushed him away with her handbag.
As the video played again, it showed the man falling to the ground, losing his balance. The blood continued seeping out until he stopped moving. The prosecutor paused the footage once more.
"This... I'll ask you again," the prosecutor continued. "Did you feel any resentnt toward the victim when he helped you that day?"
Yes! I felt resentnt! I resented him! I felt humiliated for needing help from a man! I was furious!
BUT I DIDN'T KILL HIM!
I F*CKING DIDN'T!
That day - it was dark! IT WAS DARK!! I didn't see him get stabbed! I didn't see he was hurt! I didn't see his wound!
IT WAS DARK!
IT WAS DARK!!! DID YOU HEAR !?
She scread internally, her face contorted with anger and turmoil, but she didn't answer the question.
"Please answer the question, defendant. Did you feel resentnt toward the victim?" the prosecutor pressed.
"Because what clearly killed him was the blood loss triggered when he lost balance and fell to the ground," the prosecutor explained.
"I ask this because in the video clip you uploaded to your stream, you clearly stated, and I quote: 'That guy was clearly a sexist! I can handle myself - I even have a black belt in karate! Why don't n like him understand, this isn't 1954! It's 2020! A woman can do anything a man can do, and better! n like him should all die!' End quote." The prosecutor's voice remained calm and emotionless.
"This statent clearly displays your frustration and even resentnt at receiving help from a man. According to the evidence, during 2020 you were a far-left feminist activist who promoted female independence and the anti-white n movent. These facts all serve as evidence that you resented the victim, which led you to—"
The defense lawyer imdiately raised her hand, cutting him off.
"Objection!" she shouted. She knew the prosecutor was trying to escalate the charges from involuntary manslaughter to voluntary manslaughter or even second-degree murder! She had to stop this!
"Your Honor," she continued urgently, "I move to suspend questioning at this ti. My client is currently in no ntal condition to participate aningfully in these proceedings due to extre distress. Further interrogation would violate her Fifth Andnt rights."
(Author's Note: The Fifth Andnt (U.S.) protects against self-incrimination; ntally unfit defendants cannot knowingly waive these rights.)
After that, the lawyer perford her duty and successfully moved for a continuance, aning the trial would resu at a later date.
"It was dark! It was dark! I really didn't see it! I really didn't! I didn't want him to die... oh God!" Jones sobbed uncontrollably in the car as her lawyer watched with pity.
The lawyer knew the cara evidence was rock-solid - the lighting had been sufficient for her client to see clearly. Yet it was obvious Jones was in complete denial. Given her fragile ntal state, she might genuinely believe she hadn't seen the injured man.
"Sigh~" The lawyer exhaled deeply. It seed she would need to devise a new strategy - one that could at least minimize the sentencing, and more crucially, prevent second-degree murder or voluntary manslaughter charges from sticking.
—
Amidst Jones' public downfall, two won stood watching the departing car. The first observed with gleeful delusion, while the second seethed with resentnt.
The first woman was none other than Maximilian's ex-wife, the sa woman who had filed the wrongful death lawsuit against Jones after obtaining irrefutable evidence from her daughter, now 14 years old, a computer prodigy with exceptional hacking skills and various tech.
Abigail knew Ellie still loved Maximilian, the man who had raised her as his own.
This was quite ironic, considering she had cheated on Maximilian to be with he daughter's biological father... that supposedly rich man she had been sleeping with before their marriage. She had tricked Maximilian into believing Ellie was his daughter all those years.
The bitter truth? That rich, charismatic man had turned out to be nothing more than a gigolo preying on wealthy won. Well...it was fun while it lasted.
At least that foolish, kind-hearted husband of hers, the man she had deceived for years, had the decency to leave them substantial life insurance payouts after his death.
But money never lasted forever. Now it was ti to extract more from that bitch who'd gotten rid of that pathetic simp... Ahh, she was practically a saint! Not only had she provided insurance money from her husband's death, but now she'd be paying them a hefty settlent too.
What a generous little bitch.
The woman smirked, already dreaming of the impending windfall.
Her daughter watched her with undisguised disdain. "Smiling again, Abigail? Scheming sothing? Or just thinking about your next party?" the girl asked coldly.
"How many tis must I tell you, you ungrateful bitch? I'm your mother! Call Mom!" the woman snapped.
"Mother? Heh!" The girl snorted derisively. "You've never acted like one! No cooking, no school runs, no kisses, not even a single hug! And you demand that title?"
"Stop dreaming, Abigail! The only reason I gave you that evidence and funded this lawsuit was to make sure that crazy bitch who killed my father goes to jail!" the girl spat through gritted teeth.
"This wasn't a favor, Abigail! it was a deal you gladly accepted! Rember that!"
"You little bitch!" The mother raised her hand, poised to strike.
"Go ahead! Try !" The girl tilted her cheek forward in challenge. "But rember... the mont you hit , all your 'spicy sessions' with that manwhore go viral online!"
The woman froze. Slowly, her raised hand clenched into a fist and lowered.
"Smart choice." The girl smirked and turned to leave, unable to stomach another mont near the woman who dared call herself a mother.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Teh girl continued to walk, she didn't response.
"Ellie!" The mother's voice burned with anger.
"I'm returning to Texas to stay with Grandpa and Grandma until this f*ckfest is over! You'll get your bloody money from that bitch soon enough!" Ellie shouted over her shoulder, storming away in fury.
"Heh!" Abigail scoff. "That brat thinks she's won... but I still hold the life insurance." she muttered with a dreamy look, thinking where she should party next.
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