Chapter 8 - THE TRIAL BEGINSVictoria’s case drew attention because of the Ashford name.
Edward hated that.
If Florence had lived in a small apartment and Victoria attacked her over a checking account, the harm would be the same.
But marble attracted cameras.
The prosecution separated issues carefully.
Physical assault.
Attempted coercion.
Forgery preparation.
Financial exploitation.
Victoria’s past employment history was restricted unless directly relevant.
Good.
Edward did not want a character trial.
He wanted facts.
Florence testified by recorded deposition because her health was deteriorating.
She wore blue.
Cane beside her.
The prosecutor asked:
“Did you intend to sign the transfer documents?”
“No.”
“Did Victoria Ashford know that?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Florence described the argument.
Victoria finding records.
Returning with papers.
Grabbing her wrist.
Threatening her.
Striking her.
No dramatic language.
The defense asked about Florence’s terminal illness.
“Were you taking pain medication?”
“Yes.”
“Could it affect memory?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did you dislike my client?”
Florence smiled faintly.
“Not until she hit me.”
The courtroom chuckled before the judge silenced it.
The defense attorney shifted.
“You secretly changed your estate plan without informing your son.”
“Yes.”
“Could Victoria reasonably believe Edward was being deprived of assets due to outside influence?”
“She could believe anything she wanted.”
“Mrs. Ashford—”
“But belief did not authorize her to strike me.”
Simple.
The defense could not escape that.
Edward testified about what he saw.
He did not exaggerate.
He admitted he physically intervened.
He described pulling Victoria away.
Admitted striking her.
Defense counsel asked:
“You were enraged?”
“Yes.”
“You threatened her?”
“I told her not to touch my mother again.”
“You assaulted my client.”
“I intervened in an ongoing assault.”
The judge instructed the jury appropriately.
Edward refused the temptation to sound heroic.
He had been terrified.
Angry.
Imperfect.
Still, Victoria’s choices remained hers.
Then financial investigators testified.
Copied signature.
Draft incapacity statement.
Conservatorship research.
Estate queries predating Florence’s diagnosis.
Those documents weakened Victoria’s claim that she panicked upon learning Florence was dying.
Preparation existed earlier.
Her attorney argued:
Planning legal options was not a crime.
True.
But combined with forced transfer documents and assault, the pattern mattered.
Then the prosecution introduced one message Victoria sent a friend months before:
If Florence keeps giving money away, Edward will wake up one day and realize she left us the family photographs and nothing else. I refuse to let that happen.
The friend responded:
It’s her money.
Victoria:
Not forever.
Edward closed his eyes.
That sentence hurt.
Not forever.
She had been counting down his mother’s life as a financial transition.
The trial continued.
Florence grew weaker.
Before closing arguments, she was hospitalized.
Edward stopped attending court.
No one objected.
He sat beside her instead.
One evening Florence opened her eyes.
“You should be there.”
“No.”
“Edward.”
“No.”
“This is important.”
“So are you.”
She smiled weakly.
“Finally learned priorities.”
He held her hand.
“Dad’s ring helped.”
“Worthless little thing.”
“Apparently.”
The verdict came while Edward sat beside her.
Guilty on assault.
Guilty on attempted coercion.
Guilty on attempted forgery-related charges.
Some financial counts remained unresolved or merged under jurisdictional rules.
Edward did not celebrate.
Florence listened.
Then closed her eyes.
“Good.”
That was all.
She never asked how many years Victoria might receive.
She had stopped making Victoria the center of her remaining life.
Edward tried to do the same.
May you like
Harder.
Necessary.
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