Chapter 9 - The Trial of Chicago
Two months passed. The autumn wind turned into the crisp, icy bite of early winter over Lake Michigan.
The Federal Courthouse in downtown Chicago was surrounded by hundreds of reporters, news vans, and citizens. It was the final day of the trial of United States v. Sterling Kane & Alan Whitfield.
Inside the packed courtroom, the atmosphere was suffocating. Sterling Kane sat at the defense table, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, his hair disheveled, his face sunken, looking like a hollow shell of his former self. Beside him sat Dr. Whitfield, looking equally broken, his silver glasses gone, staring blankly at the table.
At the front bench of the gallery sat Everett and Willa Kane.
Everett looked magnificent, wearing a tailored navy suit, his power fully restored. He held Willa’s hand tightly in his lap. Willa looked serene, confident, and stunning in an emerald green dress.
The judge slammed his gavel down. "Silence in the court!"
The presiding judge, Honorable Justice Marcus Vance, adjusted his glasses and looked down at the jury’s verdict forms.
"On the count of attempted first-degree murder, how do you find the defendant Sterling Kane?"
global jury foreperson stood up. "Guilty, Your Honor."
A massive murmur erupted through the gallery.
"On the count of corporate fraud, conspiracy, and poisoning, how do you find the defendant Alan Whitfield?"
"Guilty on all counts, Your Honor."
Sterling fell back into his chair, weeping silently, while Whitfield buried his face in his hands.
Justice Vance looked down at the defendants with cold fury. "Sterling Kane, Alan Whitfield... your actions were driven by monstrous greed and a total disregard for human life. You took advantage of a helpless man, committed murder, framed innocent professionals, and corrupted the institutions of this city. I sentence you both to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole at ADX Florence."
GAVEL BANGS.
"Court is adjourned."
The courtroom erupted into cheers. Reporters flooded the aisles, flashbulbs exploding like stars.
Everett didn't look at Sterling as federal marshals dragged his screaming cousin out through the side doors. The past was dead and buried.
Everett turned to Willa, pulling her out of the press chaos and through the private judicial exit into the quiet courtyard behind the courthouse.
Snow flakes had begun to fall softly from the gray Chicago sky, dusting the dark stone floor and clinging to Willa’s dark hair.
Willa laughed softly, catching a snowflake on her tongue. She turned around to look at Everett. "It's finally over."
"Yes," Everett said, stepping close to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close against his chest to shield her from the winter wind. "The debt is paid. The monsters are gone."
Willa rested her hands on his chest, looking up into his stormy gray eyes. "What happens now, Everett? Your company is safe. My license is reinstated. My mother is settled in California. What do we do now?"
Everett smiled, reaching up to gently brush a stray snowflake from her cheek.
May you like
"Now, Mrs. Kane..." Everett murmured softly, "we stop fighting for our lives... and we start living them."
He leaned down and kissed her—a long, deep, passionate kiss beneath the falling snow, sealing a vow that had begun in a fake chapel with a nineteen-dollar dress, but had turned into the greatest truth of their lives.
