The defense attorney rose like he had all day.
“Ms. Carter. At the time of your husband's death, isn't it true you discovered he had forged your signature on multiple lines of debt?”
“Yes.”
“Did he take out a second mortgage on your home, without your knowledge or consent?”
“Yes.”
“And that resulted in you and your young son becoming homeless. Correct?”
“We weren't homeless,” I answered. “But yes, the house was foreclosed on.”
“Forgive me.Nearlyhomeless.” A small nod, like he'd done me a courtesy. “And his infidelities? The affairs. You weren't aware of any of it until after his demise. Is that correct?”
“Correct.”
“So for years, your husbandliedto your face.Stolefrom you.Betrayedyou in your own home...” He looked at the jury and let it sit, then turned back to me. “Out of curiosity, Ms. Carter… if it had beenyou.If you had walked into your home the way my client walked into his, and found your husband and my client’s wife in your bed.” He spread his hands. “What would your reaction have been? Calm? Cool? Collected?”
“Objection.” Santos stood.
“Withdrawn.” He smiled. The jury had heard it. He'd planted what he needed to. “No further questions.” He sat down.
Santos stood to repair the damage. “Ms. Carter. Every marriage has its seasons, its difficulties. You'd agree with that?”
“Yes.”
“And despite everything this court has heard, despite MalikChambers’ flaws, you loved your husband. You miss him. Grieve for him. Isn't that true?”
I couldn’t answer.
“Ms. Carter. You loved him. You miss him. You grieve him. Isn't that true?” she repeated.
I was stuck again. The room waited.
“Ms. Carter, answer the question,” Judge Smith instructed.
Malik's mother was three rows back. I could feel her there without looking. I set each word down like it was glass.
“I had love for him once. But he wasn't the man I thought I’d married. So I can’t tell you I miss him.” I kept my voice level. “But I don’t have to miss him to be sorry he's gone. I'm sorry my son lost his father. I’m sorry his mother lost her son. I’m sorry Mr. Marsh threw his life away over two people who couldn’t keep their vows. It’s a tragedy all around. That's all the grief I have to give. It's the honest amount.”
Santos held my eyes a second longer than needed. Her mouth tightened, then she smoothed it over before the jury could catch it. It wasn't the answer she'd put me up there to give. I knew that. I just didn't have the grieving widow in me, and I wasn't going to fake it.
The defense was back up before Santos sat. “Ms. Carter, you just said you're sorry your son lost his father.” He paused, theatrically. “Was Malik a good father?”
I looked at him. Then at Malik's mother and brother, both of them tensed, waiting for me to give them the man they were grieving.
“He did his best,” I said.
“Hisbest?” He let it curdle in the air. “Did his best include leaving your two-year-old son to fall from a kitchen counter, and split his head open, screaming until aneighborcalled 911? All because Malik Chambers was too occupied upstairs inyourbed, screwing my client's wife?”
“Objection!” Santos shouted as the courtroom erupted with gasps and expressions of disdain and disgust.
“Quiet in the courtroom!” Judge Smith banged her gavel. “I will have you removed!”
“Objection, Your Honor.” Santos repeated. “Relevance.”
“Goes to the victim's character,” the defense countered. “The state opened this door.”
