Maria reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. "Every dollar. I knew something bad happened. I knew they did something to Marcus. I kept it as evidence."
Maya took the envelope, showing the thick stack of bills to the court. "Your Honor, I'd like to mark this as Defense Exhibit B. Mrs. Gonzalez, is there anything else?"
"Yes." Maria's voice grew stronger. "I wasn't the first. Over the years, Mr. Whitmore has done this before: maintenance workers, secretaries, mailroom staff. Always the ones he thinks can't fight back. Always minorities, always people he thinks don't matter."
"Objection!" Crawford shouted. "Prejudicial and beyond scope!"
"It goes to pattern of behavior and motive," Maya argued.
"I'll allow it," Judge Whitmore ruled, her voice heavy.
Maya returned to her table and pulled out a thick manila folder. "Mrs. Gonzalez has provided documentation of seven other incidents: employees framed, fired, or forced to resign when they wouldn't participate in corporate espionage or cover up executive misconduct."
She spread the documents on the defense table: financial records showing payments to security staff, emails discussing removing problems, and—she held up a printed email—"this from Richard Whitmore to Bradley Hutchinson dated October 14th: 'Tomorrow night. Make sure Thompson's card shows maximum access. We need this to stick.'"
Richard Whitmore lunged from his seat. "Those are privileged communications! Attorney-client!"
"You're not an attorney, Mr. Whitmore," Maya said calmly. "You're executive vice president of operations. And these aren't legal communications; they're criminal conspiracy."
She turned to Judge Whitmore. "Your Honor, I'd like to call one more witness."
"Who?"
"Richard Whitmore III."
The judge's face was stone. "Richard, take the stand."
"I refuse! This is a kangaroo court led by a child!"