Memory Trial: Tears for the Wronged

My fianc accused me of murder. That's how I ended up in prison.
On the day of my public trial, the court live-streamed the proceedings for the entire nation to see.
The man who once loved me, Aiden, pushed me onto the Memory Trial platform, a fate reserved for the worst death row inmates.
But they didn't know something crucial.
Buried in my mind was the proof: the real killer, his perfect first love, framing me for her crime.

1.
Today was the day of my execution.
Shackled at the wrists and ankles, I was led from my cell to the courtroom by two stern-faced guards. As we entered, my fianc, Aiden, lunged forward.
His hands clamped around my throat, his voice a raw, furious roar.
Murderer! Why did you pull the plug on my moms oxygen?
He shook me, his face contorted with rage. Killing my mother wasn't enough for you? You had to put Livias sister in a coma, too!
I stared at him, my eyes hollow and empty.
I told you I didn't do it. Would you believe me now?
Bullshit! My mother treated you like a daughter! Why would you do this? he screamed, his voice cracking. Give me back my mom!
Police officers finally managed to tear him away, dragging him back as they shoved me toward the stand.
I remained silent, letting them move me like a doll.
A year ago, Aiden himself had pointed the finger at me. The motive theyd invented was simple: I was jealous of Livia, the woman hed loved before me. I was bitter that his mother, Mrs. Vance, had never approved of our marriage.
But it was all a lie. I was innocent.
Order in the court! the judges gavel cracked against the wood.
This court hereby declares that the death sentence for the defendant will be carried out immediately
Wait!
Aidens voice, sharp and cold, cut through the room.
Your Honor, I formally request a Memory Trial for the defendant, he said, his face a mask of grim determination. Letting her die so easily would be a mercy she doesn't deserve.
The judge conferred with his associates for a moment before turning his gaze back to me.
At the plaintiffs request, the court orders a Memory Trial to be conducted for the defendant!
Still, I said nothing. No protest, no plea.
The guards forced me onto the Memory Trial platform. The technology was new, developed only six months ago to prevent criminals from denying their guilt or recanting confessions. It was a tool to force the truth into the light.
The process was agony. A needle-thin neural probe would be inserted directly into the brain to extract memories. It felt like every thought, every feeling, was being violently vacuumed out of your skull. Most death row inmates couldn't withstand the pain; many died halfway through, their hearts giving out from the sheer torment.
As they prepared the gleaming silver apparatus, I looked at Aiden one last time.
Aiden, I have one question for you.
His face was glacial, his eyes filled with a disgust that pierced me deeper than any needle could.
Ask it.
After my memories are displayed for the world to see will you regret any of this?
Aiden let out a short, harsh laugh.
Never.
A wave of numb despair washed over me. It was done.
Memory Trial commencing! Execution protocol officially initiated.
The probe plunged into my skull.
My body convulsed, a scream tearing from my throat, but in the depths of that white-hot pain, I felt a strange sense of release.
After a year of this living hell, I was finally free.
On the massive screen above the courtroom, my stolen memories began to flicker to life.

2.
The first scene was the hospital.
Aidens mother, Mrs. Vance, was recovering from heart surgery. I was holding a container of homemade soup, about to go into her room, when I heard voices from inside. A heated argument.
Mrs. Vances voice was frail, barely a whisper.
I will never allow you to marry into this family
All those filthy things youve done Youre not worthy
Then, another voice, sharp and cruel. You old hag. Once youre dead, Ill walk into the Vance family whenever I please!
My heart seized. I threw the door open.
Livia was standing by the hospital bed, holding the clear plastic oxygen tube in her hand.
On the bed, Mrs. Vances eyes were wide with terror, her face turning a horrifying shade of blue as she clawed at her own throat.
I stared, frozen in disbelief.
Livia, what are you doing?
A flicker of panic crossed her face before it settled back into a chilling calm.
I was just helping Mrs. Vance adjust her oxygen tube.
I snapped out of my shock, snatching the tube from her hand and slamming the emergency call button on the wall. I tried to reconnect the tube, but it was too late. The heart monitor beside the bed began to scream, a single, piercing tone.
The tube was fine, Livia! What the hell were you thinking, pulling it out? I yelled, my voice shaking.
Livia just smiled, a venomous, triumphant little smirk.
Emma, did you really think marrying into the Vance family would make you a princess? Dream on. I was Aidens first love. All I have to do is cry a little, and hell come running back to me.
Just then, the door burst open. Doctors and nurses rushed in, and right behind them were Aiden and his father.
What happened? Aiden demanded, his eyes wide.
Aiden, it was Livia! She
Aiden! Mr. Vance! Emma killed her! Livia shrieked, bursting into tears and pointing a trembling finger at me. She pulled out Mrs. Vances oxygen tube!
I stood there, stunned into silence.
No, I didnt, I
Aidens gaze fell to my hands. I was still holding the tube.
From behind his back, where only I could see, Livia shot me a look of pure, wicked victory.
Emma, why would you do this?! Aiden screamed, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me violently.
It wasn't me, Aiden, you have to believe me! It wasn't me! I pleaded, tears streaming down my face, but his grief had already turned to blind rage.
The sharp crack of his hand across my face echoed in the sterile room.
Mrs. Vance couldnt be revived. She was gone. The hospital room descended into chaos.
As the first memory faded from the screen, a stunned silence fell over the courtroom.
Aiden stared, his face ashen.
How is that possible? Livia swore she saw Emma pull the tube. He looked at the screen, then at his father, his expression a mixture of confusion and dawning horror.
Dad did we get it wrong? The Memory Trial it cant lie, can it?
Mr. Vance was equally stunned. All he and Aiden had seen that day was me, Emma, holding the murder weapon. They had never imagined a scene like this.
The courtroom gallery erupted in murmurs.
Wait, so she didn't do it? She was framed!
Aiden, snapping back to reality, shouted at the judge.
What about Livias sister, Julia? Emma was the one who ran her off the road! Shes still in a coma because of her!
The judge gestured to the technicians. The process continued, pulling another memory from the depths of my screaming mind.

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