Chapter 9 - The Verdict
The jury deliberated for a remarkably short period—just under three hours.
On a rainy Thursday afternoon, Judge Sterling’s bailiff called the courtroom back to order. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Nicholas Ferguson sat at the defense table with his head bowed, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Patricia and Gregory sat rigidly behind him, their expressions grim and hollow.
I sat in the front row, my hand resting gently on Abigail’s shoulder. She was breathing evenly, her eyes fixed on the jury foreman as he stood up to deliver the verdict.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Sterling asked.
"We have, Your Honor," the foreman replied, handing the official document to the bailiff.
The bailiff handed it to the judge, who scanned the pages quickly, his expression unreadable. He then looked down at Nicholas.
"On Count One: Interstate Domestic Violence and Kidnapping, how does the jury find?"
"Guilty, Your Honor."
"On Count Two: False Imprisonment and Witness Intimidation,"
"Guilty, Your Honor."
"On Count Three: Conspiracy to Obstruct Justice,"
"Guilty on all counts, Your Honor."
A collective gasp echoed through the gallery.
Judge Sterling didn't waste any time. "Mr. Nicholas Ferguson, in light of the overwhelming evidence and the jury’s unanimous verdict, I hereby sentence you to twenty-five years in federal prison without the possibility of parole for the first fifteen years. Furthermore, restitution in the amount of two million dollars is ordered seized from remaining un-frozen family assets to be paid directly to the victim."
Nicholas buried his face in his hands, letting out a choked, desperate sob.
Patricia stood up abruptly, starting to shout, "This is a kangaroo court! You can't—"
"Sit down, ma'am, or you will join your son in custody for contempt of court," the bailiff warned sharply, stepping into her path.
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Patricia sank back into her seat, defeated, tears of humiliation finally spilling down her cheeks.
As federal marshals stepped forward to snap heavy steel handcuffs around Nicholas’s wrists and lead him away, Abigail turned to me. A soft, radiant smile broke across her face—a smile I hadn't seen in years.
