Chapter 8
The arraignment was Monday morning.
The courtroom was full.
Reporters.
Clients of Hale Construction.
Friends of the family.
Vivian and Marcus were led in in handcuffs.
Vivian wore a gray jumpsuit, her hair pulled back tight.
No makeup.
No expensive clothes.
No red heels.
She looked ordinary.
Small.
Nothing like the woman who’d ruled our house with fear for six years.
Marcus stood beside her, his face bruised, his eyes bloodshot.
He wouldn’t look at us.
The judge read the charges.
17 felonies.
Each one worse than the last.
Conspiracy to commit murder.
Attempted murder.
Elder abuse.
Fraud.
Embezzlement.
Assault.
Breaking and entering.
Witness tampering.
“How do you plead?” the judge asked.
Vivian’s lawyer stood.
“Ms. Hale pleads not guilty, Your Honor,” he said.
Marcus’s lawyer stood next.
“Mr. Hale also pleads not guilty, Your Honor,” he said.
I wasn’t surprised.
They’d fight it.
They’d lie.
They’d try to make us look like the bad guys.
But we had the truth.
And the truth always wins.
The judge set the trial date for three months later.
Bail was denied.
They were led out of the courtroom.
Vivian looked at me as she passed.
Her eyes burned with hatred.
But there was fear there too.
She knew.
She knew she was going to lose.
Outside the courthouse, reporters surrounded us.
“Ms. Hale! How does it feel to see your stepmother in cuffs?”
“Richard! Do you have anything to say to the people who tried to kill you?”
“Isabella! Do you think you can rebuild Hale Construction after all the damage Marcus did?”
Elias stepped in front of us, blocking the cameras.
“No comment at this time,” he said.
He led us to the car.
We drove home in silence.
When we got to the house, Dad walked to the study.
He came back 10 minutes later, holding the small velvet box he’d taken from the safe.
He sat on the couch beside me, opening it.
Inside was Mom’s engagement ring.
A simple diamond, set in white gold.
She wore it every day until the day she died.
Vivian had asked for it a hundred times.
Dad had always refused.
“Mom wanted you to have this,” he said, handing it to me. “When you turned 25. But then… everything happened. I’m sorry it took so long.”
I took the ring.
It was warm from being in his pocket.
I slid it onto my finger.
It fit perfectly.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
Tears stung my eyes.
“Mom would be so proud of you,” Dad said. “You saved me. You saved our family. You’re everything she hoped you’d be. Everything I hoped you’d be.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder.
We sat there for a long time, looking out the window at the garden.
Mom’s roses were in bloom.
Red.
Pink.
Yellow.
Bright and beautiful.
Three months passed fast.
I spent the days at Hale Construction, fixing the damage Marcus had done.
Firing the corrupt employees he’d hired.
Hiring new ones.
Winning back old clients.
The company grew.
Faster than ever.
Dad came to the office a few days a week.
His leg was getting stronger.
He walked with a cane now, but only when he was tired.
He laughed more.
Smiled more.
The old Richard Hale was coming back.
The trial started on a cold Tuesday in October.
It lasted two weeks.
The prosecution called 17 witnesses.
Maria testified about the abuse.
The mechanic testified about the brake line.
The forensics team testified about the fingerprints on the threat package.
The casino employees testified about Marcus’s gambling debts.
Elias presented the documents.
The forged signatures.
The embezzled bank statements.
The life insurance policies.
Marcus’s confession.
The security footage of the night they broke into the house.
The evidence was overwhelming.
Vivian and Marcus’s lawyers tried to fight it.
They called me a bitter, greedy daughter who’d framed her stepmother to steal the family fortune.
They called Dad a senile old man who couldn’t tell the truth from a lie.
They called Maria a liar who’d blackmailed the family for years.
But no one believed them.
The evidence was too strong.
The jury deliberated for six hours.
When they came back, the courtroom was silent.
The foreman stood.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asked.
“We have, Your Honor,” the foreman said.
He looked at Vivian.
“On the charge of conspiracy to commit murder in the first degree, we find the defendant, Vivian Hale, guilty.”
A murmur rippled through the courtroom.
“On the charge of attempted murder in the first degree, guilty.”
“On the charge of elder abuse, guilty.”
“On the charge of fraud, guilty.”
“On the charge of embezzlement, guilty.”
Guilty.
Guilty.
Guilty.
All 17 charges.
Then he looked at Marcus.
“On the charge of attempted murder in the first degree, we find the defendant, Marcus Hale, guilty.”
“On the charge of embezzlement, guilty.”
“On the charge of witness tampering, guilty.”
Guilty.
On every single charge.
Vivian sat frozen, her face blank.
Marcus dropped his head into his hands, sobbing.
I looked at Dad.
Tears streamed down his face.
May you like
He grabbed my hand, squeezing tight.
Justice had been served.
