Palmer’s opening statement was a masterclass in fiction. And believe me, I’ve cross-examined enough liars to recognize talent when I see it. The man was good. He painted Diane as a devoted daughter, cruelly separated from a loving father. He described me as a calculating schemer who isolated an elderly man and positioned myself as his sole caregiver just to get my hands on the estate.
— “Mr. Sterling was suffering from profound grief after losing his wife of fifty years,” Palmer droned, his voice dripping with synthetic sympathy. “He was vulnerable, depressed, and the defendant took advantage of that vulnerability. She manipulated him into believing she was the only one who cared. This will does not reflect Mr. Sterling’s true wishes. It reflects a calculated campaign by Allison Sterling to seize his assets.”
I kept my face neutral, but inside I was already listing every one of his distortions for my future cross-examination. My lawyer, Andrew Vance, stood up for our opening. He didn’t need theatrics. The facts were damning enough.
— “Your Honor, this case is very simple. Judge Sterling was a brilliant, cautious, and consistent man. He left his estate to the person who earned it through thirty-two years of constant love and presence. The evidence will show that the plaintiffs received over $400,000 from him during his lifetime while maintaining almost no contact with him. Meanwhile, Allison Sterling was there every single day.”
Judge Miller looked at Palmer.
— “Call your first witness.”
— “The plaintiff calls Diane Sterling.”
My mother stood up, smoothing her conservative black dress. She’d dressed to evoke sympathy. Minimal makeup, hair in a neat bun. She looked like a grieving daughter—almost convincing, if you didn’t know the truth. Palmer approached her with practiced gentleness.
— “Ms. Sterling, describe your relationship with your father.”
Diane’s voice wavered.
— “He was everything to me. My hero, my rock. He and Mom raised me, gave me the best of everything. I was always a daddy’s girl.”
It was a half-truth designed for sympathy. But then the blatant manipulation started.
— “And when Allison was born, how was your father involved in her life?”
— “He was so excited to be a grandfather,” Diane said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. (Where did she even get that? Did she bring it just for the performance?) “He wanted to help. I was so young, only eighteen, still trying to find my way. When he offered to look after Allison while Steve and I got on our feet, I thought it was temporary.”
Temporary. An interesting spin. Palmer nodded sympathetically.
— “But it became permanent.”
— “Yes,” Diane said, her voice breaking. “They kept her. They made Steve and me look like bad parents because we wanted to build careers. They made me feel guilty every time I couldn’t visit. They turned my daughter against me.”
I kept my expression blank, but mentally I was tearing every word apart. Andrew Vance glanced at me. I gave a tiny nod. I was fine. Let her dig the hole deeper.
— “After your mother passed away, did your relationship with your father change?” Palmer continued.
— “He withdrew,” Diane said. “He became cold. He blamed me for not being around enough. But I tried. I called. I visited when I could. He pushed me away and pulled Allison closer.”
Judge Miller was taking notes. His face was unreadable.
— “When did you find out about the will?”
— “After the funeral,” Diane said. “I was grieving, and then I found out he’d left me nothing. He gave everything to Allison. I was devastated. It felt like a final rejection.”
Palmer turned to the judge.
— “We contend that Judge Sterling was under undue influence, that the defendant isolated him and manipulated him when he was vulnerable. This will does not reflect his true intent.”
Andrew Vance stood up.
— “Objection. Counsel is testifying.”
— “Sustained,” Judge Miller said. “Ask your questions, Mr. Palmer.”
— “No further questions.”
Judge Miller looked at my lawyer.
— “Cross-examination…”
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