In Court, They Lost More Than the Case

In Court, They Lost More Than the Case follows Wanda, a mother who reacts with inexplicable violence when her husband invites his first love, Sally, for Thanksgiving. After scalding her son and locking her family outside in extreme heat, Wanda faces a public trial in the Bad Mom Court. As her husband demands justice for their suffering, the court extracts Wanda's memories. However, the revealed truth behind her chilling actions transforms the trial into a scene of collective grief and horror.

Chapters

Chapter 2

Hearing this, Sally flinched. Flanked by Bruce and Sean, she clutched Bruce's arm and put on a false, gentle smile.

"Bruce, Wanda is family. Can't you clear up this misunderstanding? There's no need to make a scene for my sake. I feel terrible. Don't you agree, Sean?"

Her words made Sean falter.

"Mom, I didn't want it to come to this either," he said tentatively. "As long as you let us bring Sally back for Thanksgiving and properly apologize, we'll ask to dismiss the case."

Bruce glared at me. "Wanda, at this point, can't you just stop being so arrogant for once and apologize to Sally? Admit you're wrong, then Sean and I will let this slide."

I snorted and folded my arms. "You two really are a match made in hell—a bastard and a bitch make a perfect family. I hope you'll get stuck with each other for the rest of your lives!

"Stop the nonsense. If you want to take me to trial, go ahead. I've got a manicure appointment to get to."

A rapid series of shrill chimes echoed through the courtroom—a sign that the Grahams had had enough bickering with me and were eager to begin the trial.

Once the plaintiffs responded, the judge immediately activated the memory extractor and linked it to their brains.

"Given the plaintiffs' urgency, this trial will connect the memories of all witnesses at once to carry out comprehensive evidence collection."

As the words fell, the live stream feed flickered a few times before sharpening into focus.

…

The dark gray bedroom door opened, revealing me lying sick in bed while scrolling through reels on my phone.

Bruce walked in carrying a basin of water, with Sean following behind him, holding a towel.

"Mom, let us wash your feet."

"Wanda, let us wash your feet."

They both spoke in unison, their voices tender and soft. They looked particularly gentle with me in the footage. Bruce even tested the water temperature for me.

I sat up and curtly said, "I'm not feeling well today. You two should wash my feet together."

Neither showed a hint of objection. They even smiled.

"Wanda, you've worked hard. It's only right for me to do this for you."

"That's right," I said coolly.

In the next instant, Sean scooted up to me and asked innocently, "Mommy, shouldn't we also invite Sally over to thank her in person for saving you during the car accident—"

Before he could finish, I slapped my wet feet hard across both their faces and sneered.

"Sure. Only if each of you takes one foot and licks it clean."

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