Chapter 8 - The Plea and the Verdict
Judge Harrison leaned forward, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers. He looked at Brooke for a long, heavy moment.
“Mrs. Miller,” the judge said, his deep voice carrying immense gravity. “Envy is a poison that men and women have used to destroy themselves since the dawn of civilization. But few possess the sheer recklessness to drag their own flesh and blood into the abyss with them. Your admission of guilt saves this court months of trial time, but it does not erase the magnitude of your crimes.”
Brooke bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“On the charge of felony burglary and grand larceny,” Judge Harrison continued, “I sentence you to eight years in the North Carolina Correctional Institution for Women. On the secondary charge of conspiracy to commit industrial sabotage, I sentence you to an additional four years, to run consecutively, for a total of twelve years. You will be eligible for parole consideration after serving six years.”
The gavel came down with a sharp crack.
Bang.
It was over.
As the correctional officers gently guided Brooke away toward the holding cells, she cast one final, lingering look back at me. There was no anger left in her eyes—only a profound, hollow emptiness. I didn’t feel triumphant. I just felt a heavy, sorrowful exhaustion lift from my chest.
Outside the courthouse, the Raleigh sun was shining brilliantly through the canopy of oak trees lining Fayetteville Street. Daniel wrapped his strong arm around my waist, pulling me close against his side.
“You okay?” he asked softly, kissing the top of my head.
May you like
“I am,” I breathed out, resting my hand on my very pregnant belly, where a sudden, energetic kick reminded me that life was moving forward. “I really am.”
“Good,” Daniel smiled, opening the passenger door of our car for me. “Because we have a nursery to finish painting, and I refuse to let anyone else near our house until our daughter is safely here.”
