Chapter 8 - THE ARCHITECT'S ASCENT
The trial was short and brutal.
With the evidence of fraud and the physical assault,
Jackson had no defense.
The relatives who had sat at that dinner table were forced to testify.
One by one,
they admitted to seeing the plate.
They admitted to the insults.
They admitted to the silence.
I sat in the front row,
wearing a sharp,
navy blue suit,
watching the Sterlings' world burn.
Jackson was sentenced to five years in state prison for felony fraud and aggravated assault.
As he was led away in handcuffs,
he looked at me one last time.
He didn't scream.
He didn't beg.
He just looked broken.
I felt a weight lift from my shoulders,
a burden I had been carrying since the day I said "I do."
I walked out of the courthouse and into the bright sunlight.
The press was waiting,
but I didn't give them a quote.
I just walked to my car and drove.
I went to the site of my new project.
The community center was finally taking shape.
The steel beams were up,
reaching toward the sky like the ribs of a giant.
I walked through the dust and the noise,
feeling the power of creation.
I wasn't just building a structure.
I was building a legacy.
I was building a place where women could find the strength I had found.
A place where they wouldn't have to wait for the plate to hit them to know they were worth more.
I received a letter from Julian Sterling a week later.
It contained a check for fifty thousand dollars.
"It's the only money I had left that wasn't tied to the fraud,"
he wrote.
"Please use it for the center."
"I'm sorry I didn't speak up that night."
"I'm sorry I was a Sterling."
I looked at the check,
then at the letter.
I didn't forgive him,
but I cashed the check.
May you like
The money would buy a lot of bricks.
And bricks were exactly what I needed to build a future.
