Love after Death (S1) [Completed]

Chapter 46: The Daughter Left Behind

Miguel's POV

The night air clung to the streets as we walked toward the courthouse, cool but heavy, like the city itself was holding its breath. Streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, stretching us thin and distorted. My backpack rested against my spine, heavier than usual, though I couldn't explain why. Maybe it was just the weight of what tonight meant.

Sophia walked ahead, folders pressed tightly to her chest. Even from behind, I could see the tension in her shoulders.

"We've got everything," she said, her voice steady but tight. "Witness statements, verified timelines, archived reports... Ms. Carillo knows exactly how to present it."

Liam adjusted the stack of documents in his arms, tabs sticking out in neat precision.

"Every alibi is cross-checked," he said. "Every timestamp is verified. No gaps. No contradictions. If they challenge it, it'll hold."

Calix exhaled through his nose, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah. Airtight. Which means the prosecution's going to drag it out just to save face." He glanced at the courthouse doors. "But she'll dismantle it."

I didn't respond. The courthouse stood ahead-tall, silent, indifferent.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of polished wood and aging paper. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Security waved us through after a brief scan, and the metallic beep of the detector made my pulse jump.

Ms. Carillo stood near the courtroom doors, flipping through her notes with calm precision. She didn't look nervous. She looked prepared.

She glanced at us.

"Everything we're submitting is certified and verified," she said evenly. "Objections are expected. They won't hold. Stay steady."

Sophia nodded once. Liam straightened. Calix rolled his shoulders.

We entered the courtroom.

The weight of it pressed down immediately. Dark wooden benches. High ceilings. The low murmur of clerks organizing files. The judge sat elevated, composed and unreadable.

And there-behind the partition-sat Robin De Guzman.

Twenty-five years had etched restraint into his posture. His back was straight, almost rigid. His eyes moved carefully, controlled, absorbing everything without reacting to it.

Waiting.

The hearing began.

Ms. Carillo rose smoothly.

"Your Honor, we represent Robin De Guzman. He stands accused of crimes alleged twenty-five years ago. Today, we present newly reviewed and verified evidence that establishes his innocence beyond reasonable doubt."

The prosecutor stood almost immediately.

"Objection, Your Honor. The defense relies on decades-old documents and recollections. Memories deteriorate. Records can be incomplete. This evidence is unreliable."

Ms. Carillo didn't blink.

"The materials submitted include preserved physical records, verified timelines, sworn affidavits, and authenticated security and hospital logs. Each has been independently corroborated and certified by archive custodians."

She opened a folder and handed copies forward.

"Verified timelines place Mr. De Guzman at documented locations during each critical moment cited in the prosecution's case."