At My Baby Shower, My Mom Threw Boiling Milk On My Pregnant Belly For Diamonds—But When My Water Broke...

The pretrial conference took place in Department 32 of the San Diego Superior Court.

The room smelled of old wood, floor polish, and bureaucratic finality. The wooden benches were empty except for a few press reporters sitting in the back row; the story of the "Baby Shower Scalding" had leaked to local news weeks ago, turning Vivian into an object of public disgust.

I sat in the front row of the gallery, wearing a high-collared navy blazer and trousers, Ethan sitting beside me with his arm draped protectively across my shoulders.

A heavy wooden door on the side opened, and two bailiffs led Vivian into the room.

She was unrecognizable.

The immaculate lavender silk, the styled blonde bob, and the pearl earrings were gone. She wore an oversized orange jail jumpsuit, her graying hair pulled back into a ragged ponytail, her wrists shackled to a chain around her waist. She looked sunken, brittle, and decades older than sixty-one.

As she was led toward the defense table, her eyes darted across the courtroom and landed on me.

For a moment, that old, predatory flare ignited behind her pupils. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the bailiff placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, forcing her down into her chair.

During the fifteen-minute hearing, the judge formally denied bail pending trial, noting the extreme cruelty and premeditated nature of the crime. When the judge struck the gavel, finalizing the court date, Vivian twisted violently in her seat, fighting against the bailiffs who were pulling her upright.

"Madison!" she screamed, her voice cracking across the cavernous room. "Madison, look at me!"

I didn't flinch. I sat upright, my chin held high, looking straight through her.

"I am your mother!" Vivian shrieked, tears of pure rage spilling over her sunken cheeks as the chains rattled against her hips. "I gave you life! You owe me everything! You’re putting your own mother in a cage for some dead man's gold! You ungrateful little bitch—"

The bailiffs shoved her through the heavy side door, cutting off her voice with a violent slam that echoed through the courtroom like a gunshot.

Silence settled over the room.

Ethan turned to me, his hand cupping my cheek. "Are you okay?"