“I’m glad they got to us,” I say simply, unsure what words would even be appropriate in this situation. She wipes a stray tear and nods, stepping away to let us pass. Sophia expertly ushers us into the courtroom, avoiding the lingering press forming outside.
As soon as officers lead in the boss, my eyes flare with hatred. He seeks me out with his eyes, giving a similar look of hate. He knows there's no way to save himself, and I will definitely take the honor of being his downfall. As I realize this, that he’s finally going to face justice, my look of hate turns into one of glee, and I let out a giggle at his expense. His face turns so red it looks purple before his lawyer ushers him away.
The court proceedings are longer than I expect. Finally, after hours of the grueling process, I'm called up as a witness. I, for once, am willing to speak without hesitation, though thankfully the courtroom is made aware of my condition. The lawyer on our side of things points out it was due to this man’s orders and the men he hired.
“The identification of my client in this situation was most likely due to the trauma associated with her stay in the facility. Edward Parker was a familiar face, and she clung to that once she found out the investigators were looking into her father’s previous workplace,” his lawyer drones on in a snotty, high pitched voice. He's clearly trying to convince the jury that I was just in shock and chose who I pictured as the bad guy.
I snort at his statement. This will get him nowhere; it's like he isn’t even trying. I answer in short answers to his usual string of questions. I know the other lawyer would get more in depth. But I'm thankful this idiot is going first.
“Can you give us an account of your arrival into the facility, what you saw, and who you spoke to?” the other lawyer asks when they switch places. I'd met this lawyer before the proceedings started. She's smart and fierce. I nod before I recount the events in detail. I point out Parker when I get to the introduction into the facility. I include the lab rat comments and the admission into further facilities. Making a point to describe that they brought him in to make me compliant, including the bruises he left on my face. They'd taken pictures for evidence and the jury gasps at the pictures of my face, arms, and stomach. I must admit it's a gruesome sight, the phantom pain making me pause for a moment.
When my questioning is done, the trial drones on for a few more hours, but finally the jury breaks and we get to come back in the morning for sentencing. I walk out of the courthouse with my head held high and my hand in Abby’s. I loved seeing Parker sweating as he realized he wasn’t getting out of this one.
The next morning my whole group comes with us. We take up an entire row in the courthouse. I see the girl who approached me a few rows behind us and I give her a small smile before focusing my attention on the judge.
The entire sentencing, I watch Parker’s reactions as the judge lists all of the crimes that they stuck to him. I wait for his reaction as he's found guilty on every single charge, and his shoulders slowly slump. He racks up over a hundred years of sentences and I hope that he has a hard time in prison; he deserves it and worse.
The judge eventually sentences him to life in prison without the chance of parole. The fact I'll never again have to see the man personally responsible for my family’s deaths and the countless deaths he caused at the facility, makes the whole process even better.
Months later and the other proceedings went very similar. The counselor and Timmins were the only other trials I had to attend.
Timmins never lost his disgusting arrogance. He even smiled when I described his torture, like I was recounting a fun trip to the zoo instead. The counselor tried to say she was forced into assisting in my kidnapping. Thankfully the jury saw right through her, and they both were sentenced, hers was just a lot less severe. Timmins will join Parker for life. The counselor only has to go for a few years for being an accessory. Either way, her life and career are both ruined. This case is too big for her identity to be a secret, so she’ll have a rough time when she’s free.
“Party at our place to celebrate?” Sophia asks the group as we make our way out of the building. There's an unsurprising chorus of agreement. Sophia and I stop by the store to get enough food for an army and we hurry home to meet them. Before everyone arrives, I run up to change and collect myself.
The trial has been the perfect form of closure. Being paranoid I would be killed or kidnapped again had made healing hard for the past three years. The fact that these awful people will never hurt anyone else is the perfect justice.
When I make my way downstairs, I stop in the doorway to enjoy the view of my house full of people I've grown to love. Between Sophia, my friends, and now my grandparents, I've learned to trust again. I've also learned it’s okay to live life and love again.
They've taken a broken and numb girl and managed to put the pieces back together without judgement or hesitation. They'll never be able to understand the level of gratitude and love I have for that alone. I'm whole again, though I'll never forget my family. But now I can finally live, and I intend to do just that.
What now?