Chapter 8 - The Trial of Victoria Vance
Two months later.
The state supreme court was packed to maximum capacity. Journalists, television crews, and curious citizens lined the hallways, all eager to witness the trial of the century: The State v. Victoria Vance.
Victoria sat at the defense table, wearing a dark gray prison jumpsuit. Her signature silver hair was unstyled, her face lined with stress and rage. Without her expensive makeup, designer clothes, and social status, she looked like what she truly was: a bitter, broken woman devoured by her own hatred.
I sat in the witness stand, holding my head high. I was no longer the frightened, isolated, pregnant woman she had cornered in that kitchen. I wore a simple black dress, my eyes steady as I looked directly into the face of my tormentor.
"Mrs. Vance," the Lead Prosecutor asked me, "can you identify the woman who held a burning hot iron toward your stomach and attempted to force you to sign fraudulent custody documents?"
I raised my hand, pointing my finger directly at Victoria. "It was her. Victoria Vance."
The courtroom erupted into whispers. Victoria glared at me, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table.
Next took the stand was Nurse Evelyn, who had accepted a plea bargain to testify against Victoria in exchange for a reduced sentence. She detailed the exact instructions Victoria had given her to drug my food, manipulate my perception, and write false medical logs.
Then came the final, devastating blow: Captain Marcus Sterling presented the military intelligence report, proving that Victoria had illegally paid a rogue military contractor to leak classified information regarding Arthur's missing-in-action status so she could print the forged casualty notice.
When Arthur took the stand in his full military dress uniform, adorned with medals of valor, the courtroom fell completely silent.
"Captain Vance," the prosecutor asked, "what did your mother say to you when you confronted her at the estate?"
Arthur looked at the jury, his voice clear and resonant. "She told me that money and legacy were more important than human life. She threatened to murder me in her study to protect her corporate control."
The defense attorney—a public defender appointed after Julian Cross was disbarred—had no arguments left. The evidence was overwhelming, backed by audio recordings, bank trails, forensic evidence, and eye-witness military testimony.
The jury deliberated for less than forty-five minutes.
When they returned, the foreperson stood up.
"On count one, attempted murder: Guilty. On count two, kidnapping conspiracy: Guilty. On count three, military document forgery and federal treason: Guilty. On count four, child endangerment and extortion: Guilty."
Victoria closed her eyes as the judge delivered the sentence.
"Victoria Vance," Judge Helen Vance declared sternly, "you have shown a total lack of remorse for a systematic campaign of cruelty against your own family. I sentence you to life in prison without the possibility of parole."
As the bailiffs led Victoria away in chains, she turned her head, looking at Arthur and me one last time.
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"Arthur!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the courtroom. "You will regret this! You are a Vance! You need me!"
Arthur didn't say a word. He simply turned his back on her, wrapping his arm around my waist as we walked out of the courtroom together into the bright afternoon sun.
