Chapter 7 - The Reckoning of the Sullivans
Two months later.
The trial of Arthur, Beatrice, and Charles Sullivan—alongside their corrupt attorney Gregory Finch—became the trial of the century in Illinois.
The evidence unlocked from Leo’s gold wedding band was undeniable. High-definition video footage showed Finch manipulating the comatose Leo’s hands to sign forged documents. Audio recordings proved Arthur and Beatrice had deliberately withheld life-saving medical treatment to hasten their son’s death so they could steal his shares before he turned thirty.
On a bright Tuesday morning, the federal court in downtown Chicago was packed to capacity.
Lana sat in the front row of the gallery, wearing a pristine white silk dress, her hand held securely in Brennan’s.
At the defense table, Arthur and Beatrice Sullivan looked broken. Their designer clothes were gone, replaced by orange prison jumpsuits. Their silver hair was unkempt, their arrogant postures crushed by the weight of absolute public disgrace.
The judge slammed his gavel down, his voice booming across the silent courtroom.
“Arthur Sullivan, Beatrice Sullivan, Charles Sullivan, and Gregory Finch... for the charges of corporate fraud, conspiracy to commit murder, forgery, and grand larceny... this court sentences you to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole.”
Gasps and cheers erupted from the gallery!
Beatrice burst into hysterical sobs, collapsing against the table. Arthur turned around, looking desperately at Lana, his eyes full of pathetic, frantic pleading.
“Lana! Please!” Arthur cried out, tears streaming down his wrinkled face. “We’re family! Speak for us! Help us!”
Lana stood up slowly. She walked over to the wooden barrier separating the gallery from the defense table.
She looked down at Arthur and Beatrice—the people who had beaten her, insulted her, and thrown her bleeding into the rain after her husband’s funeral.
Lana reached into her purse, pulled out a single item, and set it on the table in front of Arthur.
It was a small, printed photograph of Leo’s grave—now beautifully decorated with fresh flowers, surrounded by a peaceful, sunlit garden that Lana had commissioned.
“Leo is finally at peace,” Lana said softly, her voice carrying absolute, cold finality. “And you will spend the rest of your days remembering that the nurse you threw in the gutter took everything you ever cared about.”
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Without waiting for a response, Lana turned her back on them forever.
She took Brennan’s arm, and together, they walked out of the courtroom into a sea of flashing cameras and cheering crowds.
