Chapter 8 - The Judgment
On the fifth day of the trial, the jury returned after less than forty-five minutes of deliberation.
The courtroom was packed with journalists, legal scholars, and former high-society acquaintances of the Cross family who had come to witness the final fall of Oakridge's most notorious socialites.
Judge Thomas Reynolds presided over the sentencing.
"Vivian Cross," Judge Reynolds began, his voice echoing off the stone walls like thunder. "Your actions on the morning of June twelfth were not merely criminal; they displayed a level of depraved indifference to human suffering that this court rarely witnesses in domestic cases. You used a dangerous chemical agent to inflict severe physical harm on an innocent young woman simply because you viewed her as beneath your social standing."
Vivian began to sob silently, her shoulders shaking violently under her orange jumpsuit.
"On the count of First-Degree Aggravated Assault with a Deadly Weapon, I sentence you to twelve years in state prison without the possibility of parole for the first eight years," the judge announced, striking his gavel.
Vivian shrieked, collapsing forward onto the table as court officers restrained her.
"Daniel Cross," Judge Reynolds turned his icy gaze toward my former husband. "You abandoned your moral and legal duty as a human being and as a husband. You actively participated in restraining the victim and attempted to cover up a horrific crime to protect your corporate reputation."
Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, fat tears spilling down his pale face.
"On the counts of Complicity to Aggravated Assault and Evidence Tampering, I sentence you to six years in state prison."
May you like
The gavel struck again.
As the officers unchained them to lead them down to the holding cells, Daniel lifted his head one last time. He looked at me, his eyes filled with an unbearable mixture of shame, regret, and utter ruin. I met his gaze calmly, feeling no triumphant joy, no malice—only the clean, quiet closing of a terrible chapter.
