Chapter 6 - THE DEPOSITION
The legal climax didn't happen in a dramatic, wood-paneled courtroom with a jury gasping in shock. It happened in a sterile, fluorescent-lit conference room in downtown Seattle during a civil deposition. Penny’s legal team was suing Briana and my parents for civil damages, while the state was handling the criminal side. Because the fraud involved the Harlan Irrevocable Trust, Marcus and I were subpoenaed to give a statement on the record.
I wore a sharp, tailored navy suit. I felt untouchable.
When Marcus and I walked into the conference room, my family was already seated on the opposite side of the long glass table. The transformation was staggering. Briana, out on a bail bond that my parents had likely pawned their last valuables to afford, looked hollowed out. Her designer clothes were gone, replaced by a cheap, ill-fitting blouse. My mother was pale and silent, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. My father just looked broken.
A court reporter sat at the head of the table, fingers hovering over her stenography machine. Penny’s lawyer, a sharp-featured woman named Ms. Albright, initiated the proceedings.
For the first two hours, it was a bloodbath of financial records. Ms. Albright methodically walked through the paper trail, forcing my father to admit on the record that he had facilitated the forgery.
"Mr. Harlan," Ms. Albright said, her voice devoid of sympathy, "did you or did you not hire an unlicensed notary to backdate the stamp on this fraudulent will?"
My father hesitated, looking at his public defender—a weary-looking man who simply nodded for him to answer.
"Yes," my father whispered.
"Please speak up for the record," Ms. Albright instructed.
"Yes. I did."
"And did you coordinate with your daughter, Briana Harlan, to present this forged document to my client in order to secure a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit?"
"Yes."
Briana suddenly burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. "He made me do it!" she sobbed loudly, pointing a shaking finger at our father. "He told me it was the only way! He said if we didn't sell Sabrina's house, they would lose their house! I didn't want to forge it! It was his idea!"
My mother gasped, turning on Briana. "How dare you! Your father broke the law to save you from your credit card debt! We lost our home because of your failed businesses!"
"You're the ones who told me I was going to be a CEO!" Briana shrieked back, the facade of a unified family completely obliterating in front of a room full of lawyers. "You told me I deserved Sabrina's house!"
"Quiet!" their public defender snapped, looking humiliated.
I sat there in silence, watching the spectacle. This was the family dynamic stripped of its money and its pretension. Without the cushion of wealth to absorb their toxic behavior, they were turning on each other like starving wolves. It was tragic, pathetic, and entirely their own doing.
Eventually, Ms. Albright turned her attention to me. "Ms. Harlan, for the record, did you at any point imply, promise, or indicate that the estate in question would be transferred to your sister?"
"Never," I answered clearly, staring directly at Briana, who couldn't meet my gaze. "My grandparents established the irrevocable trust precisely because they knew my parents and sister would attempt to liquidate the estate. They explicitly named me the sole trustee and beneficiary to protect the legacy of the property."
"Thank you," Ms. Albright nodded. She looked at the opposing counsel. "We have everything we need. We will be moving for summary judgment in the civil case, and turning this transcript over to the district attorney for the criminal trial."
As the deposition concluded, Marcus packed his briefcase with a satisfied smirk. I stood up, preparing to leave.
"Sabrina, please," my mother suddenly spoke, her voice a desperate, raspy whisper. She stood up, reaching across the glass table. "You've won. You have it all. Just ask them to drop the criminal charges. Briana won't survive prison. Please. You're my daughter."
I stopped at the door, turning to look at the woman who had birthed me, but never mothered me.
May you like
"I'm not the one who put her in this position, Mom," I said gently, but with absolute finality. "And you have to stop asking me to fix what you broke. Goodbye."
I walked out of the conference room, the heavy wooden door shutting behind me, severing the tie forever.
