Chapter 9 - The Trial of Bloodlines
The jury deliberated for less than ninety minutes.
When they filed back into the courtroom, the atmosphere was thick enough to suffocate a man. My parents stood beside their attorney, Richard trembling so hard his chains clinked against his belt buckle.
Judge Harris took the verdict sheet from the bailiff and glanced at it before handing it back.
“Will the defendants please stand,” Judge Harris ordered.
Richard and Evelyn stood up awkwardly.
“On Count One: Attempted First-Degree Murder of a Minor,” the jury foreperson read aloud, her voice unwavering. “We find the defendant, Richard Hayes, GUILTY.”
“We find the defendant, Evelyn Hayes, GUILTY.”
Evelyn let out a sharp, choked wail, her knees buckling beneath her. The bailiffs had to grab her by the arms to keep her from collapsing onto the floor.
“On Count Two: Aggravated Child Abuse and Poisoning of a Minor,” the foreperson continued. “We find both defendants, GUILTY.”
“On Count Three: Evidence Tampering and Conspiracy,” “GUILTY.”
Judge Harris waited for the sobbing in the defense area to subside before pulling her microphone close.
“In my twenty-five years on the bench,” Judge Harris said, her eyes fixed on my parents with cold disgust, “I have seen crimes born of poverty, crimes born of addiction, and crimes born of mental illness. But rarely have I seen a crime born of such pure, narcissistic vanity.”
She picked up her pen and began signing the official sentencing order.
“Richard Hayes, Evelyn Hayes,” Judge Harris declared.
“You targeted a defenseless two-year-old child—your own flesh and blood—and treated her as disposable trash to protect an illusion of social status. You demonstrated zero remorse, zero empathy, and zero humanity.”
She slammed her gavel down with a crack that sounded like a gunshot.
“I sentence you both to twenty-five years in the State Penitentiary without the possibility of parole.”
Evelyn began screaming incoherently as the bailiffs dragged her toward the side door leading to the holding cells. Richard hung his head, weeping silently into his chained hands as he was marched out behind her.
I watched them go.
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I didn't feel triumph. I didn't feel joy. I felt only a profound, peaceful sense of finality.
The empire of cruelty they had built on money, vanity, and lies had finally crumbled to ash.
