Chapter 5 - The Architecture of Justice
Three months later, the press stood outside the federal courthouse in Asheville. The trial of the century was concluding, and for once, the spotlight wasn't on the celebrity status of the Prescott family, but on the cold, hard mathematics of Audrey Vance’s testimony.
Audrey walked out of the building, Maisie in a stroller, her head held high. She wasn't the woman who had stood in the rain, shivering on a porch. She was the woman who had stripped a monster of his mask.
Colin Prescott sat in a holding cell, his face a shadow of the man who had laughed on the phone while he flew to Florida. His mother, Marjorie, had turned on him within forty-eight hours, pleading immunity for every ounce of spite she had harbored against Audrey.
The house—the $27 million limestone estate—was currently being auctioned by the government. Audrey didn't want it back. She had instructed Rachel to ensure the proceeds went into a trust for Maisie, a trust that would be untouchable by anyone, ever again.
As she reached her car, she saw a familiar face standing by the curb. It was Rachel, holding a folder.
"It's done," Rachel said. "The final asset forfeiture is signed. You’re free, Audrey."
Audrey looked back at the city skyline. She was broke, in the eyes of the public, but she was free. She had her daughter, she had her integrity, and she had the memory of the look on Colin’s face when she walked into the courtroom.
"What now?" Rachel asked.
May you like
Audrey touched the steering wheel, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. "I’m going to build something again, Rachel. But this time, I’m not building a mansion. I’m building a foundation that can’t be locked."
She started the car, the engine purring to life. She didn't look back at the courthouse, or the house, or the life she had outgrown. She drove away, the rain finally clearing, leaving behind the storm she had survived.
