Chapter 5 - The Deposition of Arthur Brian
Ten days before Ivana’s scheduled wedding date, the formal civil depositions were held at David Vance’s downtown legal offices.
Because of my surgical recovery, I sat in an ergonomic leather chair at the end of the long conference table, wearing a supportive back brace under a loose sweater. Beside me sat David Vance, surrounded by three thick binders of banking records, real estate filings, and text message transcripts.
Across the table sat my father, Arthur Brian, accompanied by his court-appointed defense attorney, a stressed-looking man named Richard Hayes. My father looked ten years older than he had two weeks ago. The polished, confident patriarch was gone, replaced by a man whose posture was stooped, his eyes rimmed with red, his expensive suit hanging loose on his frame.
A court reporter sat at the corner of the table, her fingers poised over her stenography machine.
"We are on the record," David Vance announced, his voice smooth, professional, and deadly. "This is the deposition of Arthur Brian in the matter of Molly Brian v. Arthur Brian, Eleanor Brian, Apex Title Services, et al."
David leaned forward, fixing his sharp gray eyes on my father.
"Mr. Brian, on November 12th at 8:30 AM, did you accompany your daughter, Molly Brian, to the surgical preparation unit at St. Jude Hospital?"
Arthur cleared his throat, looking down at his hands. "Yes."
"At 9:15 AM, was your daughter placed under general anesthesia for a complex multi-level spinal fusion surgery?"
"Yes."
"At 10:45 AM—while your daughter was fully unconscious on an operating table—did you present yourself at the offices of Apex Title Services located at 740 Market Street?"
Arthur swallowed hard. "Yes."
"And at that time, did you execute a Purchase and Sale Agreement conveying ownership of 412 Oakridge Lane, Unit 3B—a property owned exclusively by your daughter—to a private buyer for the sum of $390,000?"
"We had a power of attorney!" Arthur blurted out, his voice cracking into a defensive pitch. "She signed it three weeks prior!"
David pulled a single piece of paper from his binder and slid it across the glass table.
"Mr. Brian, I am showing you Exhibit D. This is the medical power of attorney signed by Molly Brian on October 22nd. I direct your attention to paragraph four. Can you read paragraph four out loud for the record?"
Arthur hesitated. His attorney, Richard Hayes, touched his arm, whispering softly. "Read it, Arthur."
Arthur adjusted his reading glasses, his hands shaking so violently the paper rattled.
"'Paragraph Four...'" Arthur read in a faint, dry rasp. "'This power of attorney is strictly limited to medical treatment decisions, surgical consent, and healthcare choices in the event of principal's physical incapacitation...'"
"Stop right there," David interrupted sharply. "Does paragraph four mention real estate transactions?"
"No," Arthur whispered.
David slid a second document across the table. "I am now showing you Exhibit E. This is the real estate rider attached to the title filing presented to Apex Title on the day of the surgery. Paragraph four on Exhibit E reads: 'This power grants absolute authority to convey real property, liquidate real estate assets, and manage personal banking accounts.'"
David leaned over the table, his voice dropping into a razor-like whisper.
"Mr. Brian, who printed Exhibit E? Who attached it to your daughter's signature page while she was in the operating room?"
Arthur stared at the document. He looked at his attorney. He looked at the court reporter. Finally, his eyes drifted toward me.
I did not look away. I sat straight in my chair, supported by my brace, staring at him with unyielding, absolute clarity.
"I... I added the page," Arthur whispered, his chin trembling. "We were desperate. The wedding caterer was going to drop Ivana. We didn't have the cash. We thought... we thought we could sell the condo, pay for the wedding, and then help Molly buy a new place later with a private loan..."
"So you forged a legal rider onto a medical proxy while your daughter was undergoing spinal surgery," David stated for the record. "Without her knowledge, without her consent, and for the sole purpose of liquidating her life savings for your second daughter's wedding expenses."
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"She's my daughter too!" Arthur suddenly sobbed, burying his face in his trembling hands. "I am her father! I was trying to hold my family together! Ivana was crying every night! Eleanor was having panic attacks! I was just trying to be a good father!"
"A good father," David said flatly, turning to the court reporter, "does not rob his child on an operating table. No further questions."
