Chapter 8 - The Broken Mask
The jury deliberated for less than three hours—a record for a trial of this magnitude.
When the courtroom reassembled for the verdict, the tension in the room was suffocating.
"Will the defendant please stand?" Judge Simmons ordered.
Ethan stood up slowly, his defense attorney looking grim beside him.
"On the first count of Attempted First-Degree Murder, how do you find?"
"Guilty," the jury foreman announced firmly.
Mother let out a quiet, trembling sob beside me, leaning into my shoulder. I held her tight.
"On the second count of Aggravated Assault with a Deadly Display, how do you find?"
"Guilty."
"On the third count of Grand Larceny and Corporate Fraud, how do you find?"
"Guilty."
Count by count, the verdict was delivered. Guilty on all twelve counts.
Ethan's knees buckled, and he sank back into his chair, staring blankly at the floor. The mask of the proud, infallible heir had been completely smashed into dust.
Judge Simmons looked down at Ethan over his half-moon glasses, his expression devoid of sympathy.
"Ethan Vance," Judge Simmons said, his voice echoing with profound gravity. "You were blessed with wealth, privilege, and a loving family. Yet, driven by insatiable greed and malice, you attempted to destroy your own sister's life—not once, but repeatedly. You used violence to humiliate a person who was already vulnerable, and you showed zero remorse until the handcuffs were placed back on your wrists."
The judge paused, adjusting his papers before delivering the sentence.
"I sentence you to thirty-five years in the state penitentiary without the possibility of parole for twenty-five years. You will pay full restitution to the Vance Estate in the amount of four million dollars. Court is adjourned."
The gavel came down with a loud, final thud.
As the bailiffs stepped forward to escort Ethan away in chains, he turned his head toward me one last time. There was no anger left in his eyes—only a profound, hollow regret.
"Clara..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm... I'm sorry."
May you like
I looked at him silently. I didn't scream at him. I didn't gloat.
"I know you are, Ethan," I said quietly as he was led through the heavy steel door. "But sorry doesn't fix what you broke."
