Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress novel Chapter 1593

Chapter 1593: Your father is pathetic

"I’m innocent! And you can’t even get me bail. How the hell are you going to prove my innocence once the trial starts?!"

Cassandra’s jaw clenched like a vise, her sharp eyes stinging everyone in the room. If only she could lash out more, she would have. Her lawyer and her father frowned at her outburst, but chose to remain patient.

"Cassandra," Mr. Smith said, trying to calm her. "We’re already doing our best—"

"Then your best isn’t enough!" she snapped, yanking her hand away from him. "Dad, tell me—do you even believe that I’m innocent?"

"Of course—"

"Do you really?!"

Mr. Smith paused—not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he knew that words would only stoke her frustration.

Tears spilled from Cassandra’s eyes as she ran her fingers through her hair in distress. Ever since she was arrested, all she had heard were empty promises. They kept telling her they were doing their best, that she would be out soon.

But those were just lies.

Why was she even frustrated?

It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected the worst. Even though she’d told herself the night before not to hope too much, a small part of her still clung to the idea that the truth would prevail. That her innocence would shine through.

That the system wouldn’t fail her—not because she was the granddaughter of a public servant, but because she was truly innocent.

Slumping back into her chair, Cassandra whimpered quietly.

"I’m going to die here," she sobbed, her voice barely audible, looking up at them with no trace of bravado. "They’ll kill me here."

If not the inmates, then the justice system.

Cassandra might not have been a legal expert, but she knew her case was headed toward the death penalty.

"Cassy..." Mr. Smith moved his chair closer, his eyes gleaming with genuine concern. She was still his daughter—his flesh and blood. And right now, he felt just as powerless and helpless as she did, especially after today’s appeal had been denied once again.

"Sweetie, it’s going to be fine," he said gently, nodding at her. "You’re not going to die here. I’ll make sure of that."

Cassandra’s lips quivered as her voice cracked. "And what are you going to do to make sure I won’t?"

No answer.

If they couldn’t even get her bail, then what could they possibly do?

How could she believe them anymore?

"Miss Smith, I know this is frustrating," the lawyer chimed in, keeping a composed tone. "But the court still doesn’t find the appeal valid. This just shows they’re favoring the prosecution."

"And you think that’s supposed to make me feel—what? Reassured?" she scoffed, glaring at him. "Weren’t you one of the best? You’re the Senator’s lawyer, and yet you’ve failed over and over."

"Miss Smith, I understand you’re upset, but that’s no reason to—"

"Have you ever spent a night in jail?" she cut him off, her voice low and combative, tears still streaking her cheeks. "You told me to trust you. You said I wouldn’t spend a single night in prison. And where am I now? Have you counted how many nights I’ve been here? Because I have."