Chapter 9 - The VerdictThe jury deliberated for less than forty-five minutes—one of the fastest verdicts in county history.
When the twelve jurors walked back into the courtroom, the tension in the air was so thick it was almost unbearable. Ashley stood up beside her lawyer, her hands trembling slightly, though she still held her chin up in arrogant defiance.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asked.
“We have, Your Honor,” the jury foreman replied, standing up and handing a piece of paper to the court bailiff.
The judge read the paper silently, nodded, and looked up at Ashley.
“On count one, felony child endangerment, how do you find the defendant?”
“Guilty,” the foreman announced clearly.
A loud sob erupted from my mother in the gallery. Ashley flinched as if she had been slapped, her cheeks losing every bit of color.
“On count two, aggravated assault in the first degree, how do you find the defendant?”
“Guilty.”
Ashley’s legs gave out, and she collapsed back into her chair, clutching her lawyer’s arm in sheer panic. “No! No! This is wrong! I didn't do anything wrong! It was an accident!”
“Order in the court!” the judge shouted, slamming his gavel down repeatedly.
The courtroom fell silent as the judge lowered his glasses, looking down at Ashley with severe disappointment.
“Ashley Reed,” the judge spoke, his voice heavy with condemnation. “I have presided over criminal cases for over twenty-five years, and rarely have I witnessed such a appalling display of vanity, cruelty, and total lack of remorse. You threw an innocent child off a terrace, left her bleeding on the stone path, and then tried to continue a luxury party as if nothing had happened.”
Ashley began to cry hysterically, looking back at our parents. “Mom! Dad! Do something! Don't let them take me!”
My father turned his head away, unable to look at her. My mother buried her face in her lap, her body shaking with silent sobs.
“For the charges of felony child endangerment and aggravated assault,” the judge declared firmly, “I sentence you to six years at the State Correctional Facility for Women, without the possibility of parole for the first four years.”
“No!” Ashley screamed as two armed bailiffs stepped forward, grabbing her arms and pulling her up from the table. “Claire! Tell them to stop! You win! Okay?! You win! Just tell them to let me go!”
The bailiffs snapped heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists, forcing her hands behind her back.
Ashley was dragged kicking and screaming through the side door of the courtroom, her desperate pleas echoing down the holding cell corridor until the thick metal doors clicked shut, cutting off her voice completely.
I stood up slowly, smoothing the jacket of my suit. I turned toward my parents, who were sitting alone on the wooden bench, completely isolated as the rest of the courtroom spectators filed out into the hallway.
My father raised his head and looked at me, his eyes filled with a desperate, broken sorrow.
“Claire...” he whispered weakly.
May you like
I looked at him for a long moment, feeling no anger, no hatred, and no bitterness—only a quiet, profound sense of finality.
Without saying a single word, I turned my back on them and walked out of the courtroom into the bright afternoon sunlight.
