After my stepfather injured my twin sister and me, he brought us to the hospital. My mother calmly told the doctor, “They just fell down the stairs.” My stepfather smiled, thinking he had won. But as the nurse checked my vitals, I slipped a handwritten note into her pocket, and…

the jury box. “You are asking this court to believe that you spent months—nearly a hundred days—secretly recording your own family in their most private moments. You installed a hidden surveillance device in your own home. Would you not agree that this is deeply paranoid, vindictive, and abnormal behavior for a supposedly healthy teenager?”

I sat perfectly continue reading …