The room felt like it was holding its breath, the tension so palpable you could almost taste it. I watched as their eyes darted from the officer to me, a frantic search for answers that I wasn’t ready to give just yet.
“Sophia, what’s going on?” My daughter-in-law, still playing her part, tried to inject innocence into her voice. But I had grown tired of that charade. The officer nodded at me, a silent agreement for me to proceed.
I took a deep breath, steeled my resolve, and allowed a calm smile to stretch across my face. “You see, I’ve been recording our conversations,” I said, my voice steady. “Every insult, every slight, every time you thought I wasn’t listening.”
