Chapter 8 - Justice Served
The criminal trial of Julian Sterling was swift and merciless.
He was charged with breaking and entering, armed assault, and felony corporate espionage. My father’s legal team ensured that the prosecutors had a mountain of irrefutable evidence. Julian’s public defender tried to argue temporary insanity brought on by the grief of losing his daughter, but the prosecution obliterated that defense by playing the security footage of him attacking Evan, coupled with the texts he had sent Vanessa while Lily was dying in the ICU.
I took the stand on the second day of the trial. I didn't wear black. I wore a sharp, tailored white suit. I wanted him to see me not as a grieving widow, but as an unbreakable force.
When the prosecutor asked me to describe the events of the night my daughter died, I looked directly into Julian’s eyes. I spoke clearly, detailing the twenty-two calls, the sound of the flatline, and the text message from his mistress.
Julian couldn't hold my gaze. He looked down at the table, tears of shame finally breaking through his narcissism.
The jury deliberated for less than three hours. Guilty on all counts.
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The judge, a stern woman with zero tolerance for domestic violence or corporate fraud, sentenced him to fifteen years in federal prison without the possibility of early parole.
As the bailiffs led him away in chains, I felt a massive, suffocating weight lift from my chest. The chapter of my life containing Julian Sterling was permanently closed. My daughter’s memory was no longer chained to his betrayal.
