The courtroom smelled of expensive wood polish and fear.
As the heavy doors creaked open, Mr. and Mrs. Davidson entered first—perfect posture, perfect faces, perfect lies. Behind them, their two daughters walked with practiced confidence. The crowd parted for them like they were royalty.
Anna felt her throat tighten as she watched them take their seats. Her fingers dug into her skirt. She wasn't on trial, yet her palms were slick with sweat.
"All rise," the clerk announced as Judge Bright entered. One of Mexico's top judges. Sharp eyes, graying hair, the kind of man who'd seen too many lies dressed as truth.
The judge nodded, and everyone sat.
Then the doors opened again.
---
She walked in—April.
Hands cuffed. Face bruised. Eyes defiant.
The room went quiet, all except for the low hiss of whispers:
"Murderer."
"Orphan scum."
"She's finally going to pay."
Anna's heart thudded painfully as April was led to the defendant's stand. April glanced around—her gaze locking briefly with Anna's. One supportive nod. One blink back. It was their silent language.
---
The trial began.
The Davidson couple were sworn in, hands on the Quran. Their voices steady as they recited the oath.
"I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
April was sworn in too—but her hand pressed against a Bible.
"I swear," she said, her voice calm. Too calm.
But would any of them really tell the truth?
---
The case was read aloud.
"On the night of May 14th, at approximately 9 p.m., April entered the Davidson residence through the back door without authorization. She proceeded directly to Daniel Davidson's room and fatally stabbed him in the chest with a pair of scissors. The defendant is charged with first-degree murder."
"Miss April Davidson, how do you plead?" Judge Bright asked.
April raised her chin.
"Not guilty."
The crowd erupted—gasps, curses, the sound of disbelief.
"ORDER!" The judge slammed his gavel.
---
The Davidson lawyer rose first.
"Your honor, the evidence is overwhelming. April was caught on surveillance entering the house. Her fingerprints are on the scissors. Blood spatter analysis matches her proximity to the victim. She is a rebellious, violent girl—an orphan we took in out of kindness, only to have her repay us with murder."
He paused for dramatic effect.
"She was never family. She was never one of us."
---
April's state-appointed lawyer shifted nervously.
But April? She wasn't nervous at all.
She stood when the judge gestured for her defense to speak. Her chains rattled lightly as she faced the courtroom—her voice calm, clear, dangerous.
---
"Greetings, everyone. I know most of you aren't here to listen. You've already decided who I am—a troublemaker, a servant girl pretending at royalty, a killer. But if you won't listen to my defense, then you'll never know what's real."
The whispers returned—low, venomous.
"How sure are you that I was just an orphan pitied by this family? That i am not the real Davidson blood"
She turned her gaze on Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, her eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
"And the boy you buried last month, was he really Daniel Davidson?"
---
The courtroom froze.
Anna's heart slammed against her ribs.
The judge narrowed his eyes.
"Miss April… are you accusing the Davidson family of fraud? Of replacing their own children?"
April smiled—small, cold, unshakable.
"I'm not accusing them, Your Honor. I'm proving it."
The room exploded.
"ORDER! ORDER IN THIS COURT!" Judge Bright shouted, slamming his gavel.
But it was too late. The cracks in the perfect Davidson family had begun to show.
And April hadn't even started yet.