“You executed an overt physical act of sovereign defense sabotage, child exploitation, and title treason on recorded federal telemetry.”
“Harrow brought the red pen.”
“Your clerk brought the transceiver.”
“You brought the Montblanc pen.”
“And the moment my husband stepped through those school doors with Scout this morning…”
I bared my teeth in a cold, terrifying line of white bone:
“…your family triggered the self-executing forfeiture clause of Article Three, Section Three of the United States Constitution.”
“You didn’t steal sixty billion dollars from the national defense redoubt tonight, Arthur.”
“You spent forty years pouring sixty billion dollars of your personal criminal reserves… straight into Clara’s sovereign trust.”
“You spent four decades engineering a grand takeover…”
Judge Mercer bared her teeth in a cold, terrifying line of white bone:
“…only to hand your entire dynastic empire to the child whose homework you threw in the trash.”
Arthur Vance’s skeleton seemed to liquefy.
