Chapter 9 - The Verdict and the Reckoning
The trial—or rather, the swift collapse of the defense before a trial could begin—took place in late February, just as the first premature shoots of green began breaking through the frozen mud along the Susquehanna.
Simone Patel called me into her office downtown. I was walking with the aid of a cane now, my pelvis healing steadily under the tireless care of my physical therapist.
"It’s over," Simone said, sliding the final settlement papers across her polished mahogany desk. "Vanessa’s defense counsel realized they had zero ground to stand on. The traffic camera footage, the medical reports, the eyewitness testimonies, and Caleb’s corroborating sworn statement left them completely exposed."
"What did she get?" I asked, leaning against the back of the chair.
"Three years in state prison for aggravated assault resulting in serious bodily injury, followed by five years of supervised probation," Simone replied without emotion. "She also agreed to a permanent restraining order prohibiting her from coming within five miles of Bellweather Hall or contacting you, Tessa, or any member of your staff ever again."
I let out a long breath, feeling the last lingering ghost of the trauma leave my shoulders. "And Caleb?"
"Caleb’s firm placed him on indefinite administrative leave, and his relationship with Vanessa is permanently dissolved. He’s currently attending mandatory counseling and trying to rebuild his life in Philadelphia. He asked me to give you a letter."
Simone placed a sealed white envelope on the edge of the desk. I looked at it for a long time. The handwriting was unmistakably my brother's—neat, hurried, familiar.
"Did you read it?" I asked.
"No," Simone said, standing up to give me privacy. "That’s entirely between you and him. But remember, Mara—you are under no legal or moral obligation to open it today, tomorrow, or ever."
May you like
I picked up the envelope, slid it into my leather portfolio, and nodded. "Thank you, Simone. For everything."
"That’s what attorneys are for," she smiled warmly. "Now go back to Bellweather. Spring booking season starts next week, and you have seventy weddings to run."
