She looked at them.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” she began, her voice clear and confident. “Thank you for your service. I know this is not an easy task, but it is a necessary one. Today, you will hear a story. A story about jealousy, obsession, and rage.”
My stomach hit the floor.
“The defendant, Simon Nelson, is a hairdresser. He’s well-known in this community. Friendly. Outgoing. Openly gay.” She paused, letting the words hang in the air. “And he was very close to his sister, Mercedes Nelson. Some might say too close.”
Tony’s hand landed on my arm, his grip firm.
I forced myself to stay still.
“Alan Sanders was Mercedes’ boyfriend,” Rosalind continued. “By all accounts, he was a good man. Hardworking. Devoted. He loved Mercedes. And she loved him.”
My jaw clenched.
Liar.
“But Simon didn’t approve,” Rosalind said, her tone turning darker. “He didn’t like Alan. He didn’t like that his sister had chosen someone else. That she had moved on. That shebelonged to someone else.”
Belonged?
My hands curled into fists under the table.
“The prosecution will show that Simon Nelson was obsessed with his sister,” Rosalind said, pacing slowly in front of the jury. “That he couldn’t accept her relationship with Alan Sanders. That he was jealous. Possessive. And when Alan proposed to Mercedes, when it became clear that she was going to leave Simon behind and start a life with Alan, Simon snapped.”
I could feel the eyes of the jury on me.
Some of them were nodding.
No. No, no, no.
“On the night of March 4th, Simon Nelson went to Alan Sanders’ home,” Rosalind said. “And he stabbed him. Not once. Not twice. But eleven times.”
A murmur rippled through the gallery.
“Eleven times,” Rosalind repeated, her voice rising. “That is not self-defense. That is not an accident. That is rage. That is a man who lost control. A man who couldn’t accept that his sister had chosen someone else.”
Tony’s grip on my arm tightened.
I couldn’t breathe.
“The defense will try to tell you that Simon acted to protect his sister,” Rosalind said, turning to face the jury fully. “They will try to paint Alan Sanders as a monster. But the evidence will show otherwise. The evidence will show that Simon Nelson is a man consumed by jealousy. A man who couldn’t accept that his sister was moving on. A man who was so obsessed with control that he murdered the man his sister loved.”
She paused, letting her words sink in.
“And I have to ask,” Rosalind said, her voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. “What if the real motivation was something darker? What if Simon couldn’t accept that his sister belonged to someone else? What if his jealousy wasn’t just about losing her attention but about something... more?”
My blood ran cold.
She was implying...
“Simon Nelson is a gay man,” Rosalind said, her tone careful, measured. “And there is nothing wrong with that. But what if his feelings toward his sister were... complicated? What if he resented her relationship with Alan not just because he was losing her, but because he couldn’t understand it? Because he was disgusted by it?”
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t breathe.
She was twisting everything.