Chapter 7 - The Verdict
The judge, a stern woman with zero tolerance for domestic abuse, banged her gavel.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?"
The foreman stood up. "We have, Your Honor. On the charge of Attempted Murder in the Second Degree, we find the defendant, Eleanor Vance... Guilty. On the charge of Aggravated Assault with a Deadly Weapon... Guilty. On the charge of Extortion... Guilty."
Eleanor collapsed in her chair, a hollow, animalistic wail leaving her lips.
"On the charges against Arthur Vance, Accessory to Attempted Murder and False Imprisonment... we find the defendant Guilty."
The judge didn't wait for sentencing day to make her disgust known.
"Eleanor Vance," the judge said, her voice dripping with contempt. "In my twenty years on the bench, I have rarely seen an act of such profound, narcissistic depravity. You looked at your dying child and saw nothing but an ATM. I am sentencing you to twenty-five years in a maximum-security state penitentiary, without the possibility of parole. You will likely die in a cage, which is far better than what you tried to do to your daughter."
My mother shrieked, fighting the bailiffs as they slapped the heavy iron cuffs onto her wrists. She looked back at me, her face twisted in absolute hatred and terror.
"Clara! Tell them! I'm your mother! Clara, don't let them take me!"
I just smiled. A small, peaceful, entirely satisfied smile.
Arthur received fifteen years. He didn't say a word as he was led away, his head bowed in ultimate defeat.
Julian, who had avoided jail time by testifying, was sitting in the back row of the courtroom. As the crowds dispersed, I walked up the aisle and stopped beside him.
He looked up at me, his eyes rimmed with red. "Clara... I..."
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"If you ever contact me again, Julian," I said softly, so only he could hear. "I will buy the gas station you work at, and I will fire you. Have a nice, thoroughly average life."
I walked out the double doors of the courthouse and stepped into the bright, brilliant Seattle sunshine.
