Victory

It went better than I could possibly have hoped. Let me reconstruct the scene for you: Mr. Svend had called me up to the witness stand to needle me with ridiculous questions about my mental state. It took a bit of acting, but I was able to steer his line of questioning to my family's lineage. I could tell he was wary of wading into anything to do with my family history, since any inherited illness could be used against my brother as well. Eventually however, he took the bait and asked aloud if any records of my father's remained. He meant it to be a rhetorical question, and the look of triumph on his face made what happened next all the sweeter. I cleared my throat and told him that I was able to salvage a copy of my father's book Walking Beneath the Sky. He tried to laugh it off, but I had my lawyer bring the book to me and I began to read aloud. I won't share the passage I read (my brother still doesn't deserve it), but it worked. The look on the jury's face afterwords was only beaten by Svend's reaction. I could tell he feigned shock at what S. had done, and decided it was time to bail. He did a complete one-eighty degree turn, trying to pretend that he had no idea that his client had done anything of the sort; and that furthermore, his participation was fairly minor. Then came to greatest moment of my life up to now, I asked my lawyer to bring up the pictures I'd taken on Wednesday of Svend snooping around the house and showed them to the judge. Svend rushed up and grabbed the photos, looking over them with his beady eyes as his mouth struggled to frame words. He denounced them as fakes, saying that it wasn't him; but I simply pointed out that there aren't many other seven foot tall pasty bald men in suits out to get me. The judge shook his head at Svend and threw out the case in total. I looked back at my brother, only to find that he'd already left. (I can't say I'm sorry to see him go after all this, but still...) Halfway out the door I turned to give a parting smirk to the man who'd made my life a living hell these past weeks. He was kneeling down on the floor, still looking over the photos with a dumbfounded look on his face; and well, I just couldn't do it. A bittersweet end to a unwanted reunion to be sure. howiregretthatday