Chapter 4 - The Aftermath of Truth
The walk out of the courtroom was the longest, most satisfying walk of my life.
The bailiff was still dealing with Julian in the hall. My brother was frantic, shouting threats and promises of lawyers, but he sounded small, inconsequential, and utterly defeated. Eleanor followed him, her head bowed, her expensive designer bag dragging behind her on the floor.
I didn't stop to gloat. I didn't stop to offer comfort. I didn't even look back.
As I pushed through the heavy double doors into the bright, blinding sunlight of the courthouse steps, I felt a weight lifting from my shoulders that I hadn't realized I was carrying for years. The silence that had been my armor was now my weapon.
A group of reporters had gathered near the entrance—likely tipped off by the clerk of the court when the case was filed. Seeing them, I knew this would be in the papers tomorrow. The Owens empire, once the pride of the city, was about to be laid bare.
"Victoria! Over here! Did you win?" a reporter shouted.
May you like
I stopped. I turned toward them, my face calm and composed.
"The truth won," I said. "And the truth is exactly what the law requires."
