Chapter 7 - The Trial of the Century
Two months later, the Crestwood scandal became national news. Uncle Henry was apprehended at a regional airport trying to board a flight to Costa Rica under an assumed name.
The trial was swift and brutal. With Eleanor’s evidence, Henry’s own financial records, and the newly reopened forensic evidence from Clara’s case, the defense had nothing to stand on.
Martha sat in the front row of the courtroom every single day, her posture perfect, her face an unreadable mask of stoic resolve. Arthur sat beside her, holding her hand, while Julian and Eleanor sat behind them, a united front.
When the verdict was read—Guilty of vehicular manslaughter, extortion, and embezzlement—Martha didn't cheer. She simply closed her eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. Clara finally had justice. The ghost that had haunted their halls for three years could finally rest.
Outside the courthouse, the paparazzi swarmed, cameras flashing like lightning. Julian wrapped a protective arm around Eleanor, guiding her through the sea of microphones.
“Mr. Crestwood! Mrs. Crestwood! How does it feel to see your uncle put away?” a reporter yelled.
Julian paused before getting into the black SUV. He looked down at Eleanor, who gave him a small, encouraging nod.
“It feels like waking up from a very long, very dark nightmare,” Julian told the press, his voice steady. “My sister can finally rest in peace. And my family can finally begin to heal.”
As the car drove away from the media circus, Martha reached back from the front seat and squeezed Eleanor’s hand.
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“We’re having peach cobbler on Sunday,” Martha said, a genuine, warm smile touching her lips for the first time in months. “You’d better be there, my girl.”
Eleanor smiled back, her heart swelling. “I wouldn’t miss it, Mom.”
