Chapter 9
The jury deliberated for six hours.
Six of the longest hours of my life.
I paced the hallway outside the courtroom.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Rosa made me drink water.
My mom rubbed my shoulders.
My dad sat on a bench, head in his hands, praying.
Lila sat next to me.
Held my hand.
“Whatever happens,” she said, “we won. He admitted it. The whole world heard him. Claire knows. She’s at peace.”
I nodded.
But I needed more.
I needed the verdict.
I needed the jury to say he was guilty.
To make it official.
Finally, the bailiff came out.
“The jury has reached a verdict,” he said.
We walked back into the courtroom.
My legs were shaking so bad I almost fell.
Rosa held my arm, helped me to my seat.
Ethan and Martha were brought back in.
Ethan looked defeated.
His head was down.
Martha still glared, but her hands were shaking.
She knew.
They all knew.
The judge asked the foreman to stand.
“On the charge of first-degree murder of Claire Carter,” the foreman said. “How do you find?”
“Guilty.”
The courtroom murmured.
“On the charge of kidnapping Charlotte Carter.”
“Guilty.”
“On the charge of conspiracy to commit murder of Charlotte Carter and her unborn child.”
“Guilty.”
“On the charge of wire fraud.”
“Guilty.”
“On the charge of theft of the Carter family business assets.”
“Guilty.”
He went on.
Count after count.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Then Martha’s charges.
Conspiracy to commit murder.
Guilty.
Fraud.
Guilty.
Embezzlement.
Guilty.
Witness tampering.
Guilty.
When it was over, the judge looked at Ethan.
Then at Martha.
“These are some of the most heinous crimes I have ever seen in this courtroom,” he said. “You abused your power. You abused the people who loved you. You took a young woman’s life. You tried to take another and her unborn child. You showed no remorse. No mercy. You deserve none in return.”
Sentencing was a week later.
Ethan Carter was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
He would die behind bars.
Martha Carter was sentenced to 25 years in federal prison, no parole eligibility for 20 years.
She would be 87 when she got out.
If she lived that long.
After the sentencing, the DA handed me a stack of papers.
All of Ethan’s assets were now mine.
The estate.
The businesses.
The cars.
Every dollar he’d stolen from my parents was returned, plus interest.
Plus $20 million in punitive damages.
I walked out of the courthouse a free woman.
The sun was shining.
Reporters cheered.
Women in the gallery held up signs with my name.
With Claire’s name.
Lila hugged me tight.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for giving her justice.”
My parents hugged me.
Rosa hugged me.
I put my hand on my belly.
The baby kicked.
Hard.
Like it was cheering too.
That night, we went back to the apartment.
Rosa made a big dinner.
Steak.
Baked potatoes.
Chocolate cake.
We laughed.
We cried.
We toasted Claire.
We toasted the baby.
We toasted new beginnings.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like a victim.
I felt like a survivor.
Like a warrior.
May you like
I’d been to hell and back.
And I’d won.
