Winter arrived while the court worked through motions and scheduling problems. Daniel learned that justice could consume months without producing anything a camera would find interesting: a revised date, an evidence list, an argument about which witness could answer which question.
He also learned why the slow work mattered. Mercer's defense challenged the completeness of Judith's video, suggesting that the version circulating online had been edited to conceal Daniel's behavior.
The original file from her phone was different from the online copies. A technical witness could explain its continuity, collection, and metadata, while Judith could describe why she had recorded it and what happened when she briefly turned toward the river.
No one claimed her camera showed every angle. The blocked hand and the momentary movement remained part of the record, which made the honest portions stronger rather than weaker.
Rachel explained these developments to Daniel in plain language. He had begun bringing a notebook so he could ask questions without trying to remember them while worried.
One page was devoted to Evelyn. The defense intended to argue that her intervention had shaped the investigation from the first seconds, and Daniel wanted to know whether she would have to testify.
“Possibly about what she personally observed and did,” Rachel said. “She cannot testify to the shove itself if she didn't see it.”
“She was right there afterward.”
“Afterward matters. It is still afterward.”
The distinction irritated him because it was true. He wanted the courtroom to understand the whole morning, but no single person had seen the whole of it.
Tessa kept a separate notebook of medical appointments, expenses, and missed work. Their savings had covered the earliest bills, but Daniel's reduced hours had created a gap that did not close merely because customers sent encouraging messages.
Rachel pursued the civil claim through its own process. She warned them not to treat a possible settlement as money already in the bank, and they adjusted their household budget around what they actually had.
One evening, Daniel found Tessa canceling a weekend trip they had planned before Lily was born. She said it was sensible, and he heard all the disappointment she left out.
“We should talk about things besides the case,” he said.
“Then ask me how my day was before asking whether anyone called.”
He looked down. He had not realized how often he did that.
They began leaving their phones in a drawer during dinner. Some nights the habit felt artificial, but eventually Daniel stopped watching the drawer and started hearing stories about Lily discovering her toes or Tessa's argument with an unhelpful delivery company.
The prosecutor's office scheduled a witness preparation meeting. Bell explained that preparation meant understanding the setting and reviewing Daniel's own statements, not learning a better version of events.
Daniel read his first account and noticed he had described the stroller as beside his right ankle when a photograph placed it slightly behind him. He worried that the difference would destroy his credibility.
“You should correct it,” Bell said. “People under stress do not become measuring instruments.”
They recorded the clarification and disclosed it through the proper process. Daniel felt exposed, then relieved; he could stop defending a detail he had never been certain about.
He practiced saying “I don't remember” without hearing it as failure. He practiced waiting until a question ended, asking for clarification, and describing pain without making himself sound either indestructible or helpless.
Before he left, Bell asked what worried him most about testifying. Daniel expected to name Mercer, but another answer came first.
“That they'll think my daughter was a prop in a story about my sister.”
Bell put down his pen. “Tell them where she was and what you did to protect her. The evidence can carry more weight than a slogan.”
Outside the courthouse, snow had gathered along the steps. Daniel descended slowly, holding the rail with his stronger arm, and called Tessa before checking any messages about the case.
“How was your day?” he asked.
He had arranged the next day's repairs around the meeting, leaving the heavy work for Ben and taking the small electrical jobs himself. Planning within his limits still frustrated him. Yet it meant customers received realistic promises, and he no longer had to disguise every painful movement as a momentary inconvenience that would disappear if nobody noticed it.
She paused, then began telling him, and he listened all the way to the car.