Chapter 7 - The Verdict
The jury deliberated for less than four hours—a astonishingly brief time for a high-stakes felony trial.
The courtroom was dead silent as Judge Vance called the court back to order. I sat in the front row of the gallery, my hands folded tightly in my lap. Beside me sat my sister, who had flown in to support me, while Daniel sat three rows back, completely isolated from both his mother's legal team and mine.
"Will the defendant please rise," Judge Vance instructed.
Patricia stood up, flanked by her lawyers. Her chin was held high, but the nervous twitching of her hands revealed her panic.
"Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?"
The jury foreman, a stern middle-aged man in the front row, stood up. "We have, Your Honor."
"On Count One, Felonious Assault, how do you find?"
"We find the defendant, Patricia Miller, guilty."
A collective breath hitched in the courtroom. Patricia flinched as if she had been struck.
"On Count Two, Felony Child Endangerment, how do you find?"
"We find the defendant, Patricia Miller, guilty."
"On Count Three, Tampering with Evidence and False Reporting, how do you find?"
"We find the defendant, Patricia Miller, guilty."
Patricia’s legs gave out, and she sank heavily back into her chair. Her lead attorney looked down at his desk, shaking his head slightly.
"The defendant is taken into custody immediately pending sentencing," Judge Vance ordered, bringing her gavel down with finality.
Two bailiffs stepped forward, pulling Patricia’s arms behind her back. For the first time, the polished socialite completely unravelled.
"Daniel! Arthur! Do something!" she shrieked, struggling against the officers as they led her toward the side door leading to the holding cells. "I did nothing wrong! She ruined this family! Emily ruined everything!"
Her screams echoed down the concrete hallway until the heavy steel door slammed shut, cutting off her voice completely.
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I took a deep, long breath, feeling as though a crushing weight that had sat on my chest for months had finally been lifted. I looked back at Daniel. He was staring at the floor, tears streaming quietly down his face. He looked broken, but there was a quiet acceptance in his eyes.
Outside the courthouse, microphones were thrust into my face by reporters, but I pushed past them silently, walking toward my car. I didn't need the spotlight. I didn't need revenge. I only needed to get back to my daughter.
