“So you felt pressured to avoid contact with Alex?”
“Objection,” Blackwood called. “Leading the witness.”
“I’ll rephrase,” Damian said smoothly. “What was your understanding of Mr. Delaney’s expectations regarding Alex after his resignation?”
Elizabeth straightened. “That we were not to contact him directly. All communications regarding his work or potential exhibitions would go through Mr. Delaney.”
“And did you comply with this understanding?”
“Yes.” She looked directly at me. “I’m sorry, Alex. As a small gallery, we couldn’t afford to lose Mr. Delaney’s patronage. It was wrong, and I regret it deeply.”
Tears stung my eyes at her unexpected apology. Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place—how thoroughly Marcus had isolated me, how many paths back to my former life he’d blocked.
Blackwood’s cross-examination attempted to re-frame Elizabeth’s testimony as standard practice in patron-artist relationships, but her clear regret undermined his efforts. When she stepped down, I felt a small victory in the truth finally emerging.
“The plaintiff calls Nurse Rebecca Torres,” Damian announced.
A woman in scrubs entered, clearly having come directly from her hospital shift. After being sworn in, she sat with the professional composure of someone accustomed to crisis.
“Nurse Torres, could you tell the court about your interaction withAlex Lajeunesse on the night of September 17th this year?”
“Mr. Lajeunesse was brought to Toronto General’s emergency department by ambulance at approximately 11:42 PM. I was the intake nurse assigned to his case.”
“What condition was he in when he arrived?”
Rebecca’s clinical demeanour softened slightly. “He had multiple injuries: three broken ribs, a concussion, lacerations requiring stitches on his back and thighs, extensive bruising across his torso and extremities, and internal bleeding that required immediate attention.”
“Were these injuries consistent with a fall, as the defence has previously suggested?”
“No.” Her answer was firm. “The pattern and nature of injuries indicated assault. The lacerations had distinctive patterns consistent with being struck by an object with edges—possibly a belt buckle. The bruising showed multiple impact points from different angles, impossible in a simple fall.”
I stared at the table, feeling exposed as she catalogued my injuries for the court to hear.
“Did you observe any other concerning signs?”
Rebecca hesitated, her professional mask slipping slightly. “Yes. Mr. Lajeunesse had injuries consistent with sexual assault. Tearing and bruising in the rectal area, bruising on the inner thighs, and defensive wounds on his wrists and forearms.”
The courtroom went completely silent. I could feel eyes on me, imagining my broken body on an emergency room table.
“What was Mr. Lajeunesse’s emotional state?”
“He was withdrawn, minimally responsive. This is consistent with acute trauma response. When asked about his injuries, he initially claimed to have fallen.”
“Did you believe this explanation?”
“No. His injuries were incompatible with that account.”
“What actions did you take?”
“I followed hospital protocol for suspected domestic violence and sexual assault. I recommended a rape kit examination and documentation of injuries for potential legal proceedings.”
“Was this examination completed?”
“No. Mr. Lajeunesse left the hospital before we could complete it. When I returned to his room after speaking with the attending physician and warding off Mr. Delaney, he was gone.”
“In your professional opinion, based on the injuries you observed, what happened to Alex Lajeunesse that night?”
Rebecca looked directly at me, her eyes gentle despite her clinical tone. “He was beaten severely and sexually assaulted. The injuries were deliberate and methodical, not the result of a momentary loss of control. Some wounds showed signs of being inflicted over time, with older bruising beneath newer injuries.”
