Rewriting My Heart's Fate

I felt a collective power of justice converging for the first time at the law firm.

The lawyers were professional and meticulous, carefully reviewing each piece of evidence and formulating a detailed action plan.

"He's currently incarcerated. With the additional evidence we have in hand, he could be sentenced to life imprisonment. But if we could find proof of murder, he could face the death penalty," one senior attorney said, adjusting his glasses and analyzing the situation with

sharp focus.

Each of his words struck my heart like a hammer, filling me with both excitement and urgency.

"Evidence of murder..." I murmured, replaying memories of my mother's life in my mind, trying to catch any possible clues that might have been overlooked.

Suddenly, a vague memory flickered through my mind.

It was a late night when I vaguely heard my mother arguing with someone in her room, followed by a dull thud of something heavy hitting the ground.

But after that night, she never mentioned it again, though her eyes held a sadness that was difficult to articulate.

"Yes, evidence of murder is crucial."

looked up at the team of lawyers with determination shining in my

for evidence that could prove

lawyers nodded, expressing

detail, including conducting a covert investigation, ensuring witness safety, and maximizing the

was setting by the

anticipation and anxiety

from the lawyers. They decided to proceed with the lawsuit first, with the evidence to be supplemented

months to

the legal formalities

would be my final visit. I wanted Jack to confess the truth and to stop clinging to

displeased with my arrival, letting

can't believe I raised such an ungrateful child. Do you think you can bite back now that I'm in prison?

to the death

a safe place for me in my childhood, but now they only showed indifference and hatred. "Jack, you're mistaken. This isn't revenge. I'm speaking out for

to

shifted slightly, but he quickly