Judge Halloway looked at me over her glasses. “Ms. Vance, you are representing yourself?”
“I am, Your Honor.”
“Are you sure? Mr. Sterling is a seasoned litigator. The court cannot give you legal advice.”
“I understand, Your Honor. I am prepared to proceed.”
My father leaned over to my mother and whispered, loud enough for me to hear, “Look at her. She’s got nothing. No binders, no paralegals. Just one folder. This will be over by lunch.”
“Opening statements,” Judge Halloway ordered.
Mr. Sterling walked to the center of the room. He didn’t use a podium. He liked to pace.
“Your Honor,” he began, his voice rich and theatrical. “This is a case of elder abuse, plain and simple. We have here a loving son and daughter-in-law, cut out of a will by a manipulative, estranged granddaughter. The defendant, Elena Vance, is a woman with a checkered past. Unemployed. Drifting. She preyed on Rose Vance’s dementia. She isolated her. She whispered poison in her ear. And in the final, confused days of Rose’s life, Elena forced her to sign a document she couldn’t possibly understand.”
