Chapter 4 - 'Brake Assembly and Tension Adjustment'—highlighted in yellow marker. The manual was dated three weeks before the anniversary party."
Eleanor Vance leaned back in her leather chair, her fingers laced over her stomach. "She didn't just act on impulse at the party. She went to your house, Claire. When was the last time Evelyn visited your home before the anniversary?"
I racked my brain, remembering the humid afternoon two weeks before the event.
"She came over on a Tuesday," I whispered, the memory coming back with terrifying clarity. "She said she wanted to drop off Toby’s customized formal suit for the party. She insisted on taking Toby out to the garden to try on his shoes, and she asked Mark to help her carry some old boxes down to the basement. I was in the kitchen for twenty minutes..."
"And where was Toby’s wheelchair during that twenty minutes?" Attorney Vance asked.
"It was parked in the front hallway," I said, my voice cracking. "Right next to the basement stairs."
"She loosened the primary mounting pins two weeks ago," Miller concluded, leaning forward on his elbows. "She tightened them just enough so the chair would function for light use around your house, but left the threads stressed so that a sharp, side-angle pull—like the one she applied at the venue—would cause the entire assembly to shear off instantly under weight."
"That isn't just assault," Attorney Vance said, her voice dropping into a register that was as cold as iron. "That is premeditated physical sabotage targeting a disabled child over a period of fourteen days."
The door to the office opened, and Attorney Vance’s assistant stepped in, holding a fresh fax paper.
"Mrs. Vance," the assistant said, handing the paper to my attorney. "The District Attorney’s office just filed an amended indictment. They’ve upgraded the charges against Evelyn Vance to First-Degree Attempted Assault with Extraordinary Depravity, and they’ve issued a subpoena for Mark Vance as an accessory after the fact."
I looked at the photos on the desk—the red toolbox, the yellow highlighter on the wheelchair manual, the cold steel socket sets sitting among the orchid pots.
"He knew," I whispered, the final piece of the nightmare clicking into place. "Mark knew she went to the basement that day. He held the light for her."
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"We’re going to freeze every asset they have, Claire," Attorney Vance said, taking my hand across the desk. "Not just the personal accounts. We’re filing an emergency motion under the Child Sabotage Protection Act to place the entire Vance & Sterling partnership into court-ordered receivership."
"I don't care about the firm, Eleanor," I said, looking up at her with eyes that felt burned dry by tears. "I want my son to know that nobody—not his father, not his grandmother, not forty million dollars—can buy their way out of what they did to his arm."
