Chapter 7 - THE TRIAL OF SHADOWS
The trial of Richard Vale was a circus of the highest order.
The courtroom was packed every day with reporters and military brass.
I was the star witness,
the 'Damaged Lieutenant' who had returned from the dead to testify.
My father sat at the defense table,
looking older and smaller every day.
His lawyers tried to paint me as a disgruntled daughter,
as someone seeking revenge for a childhood of neglect.
“Isn't it true,
Lieutenant Vale,
that you’ve always resented your father’s success?”
the defense attorney asked,
pacing in front of the jury.
“I didn't resent his success,”
I replied,
my voice echoing in the silent room.
“I resented the fact that his success was built on a foundation of compromised steel.”
“I have the metallurgical reports,
Counselor.”
“I have the emails where he authorized the use of sub-standard alloy.”
“And I have the scars that prove the result.”
I stood up and pulled my collar down,
showing the jury the full extent of the damage.
The gasps in the room were audible.
Richard looked away,
unable to face the physical evidence of his crimes.
“He called me a ‘damaged woman’ on my wedding day,”
I continued,
looking straight at the jury.
“He was right.”
“I am damaged.”
“But I am not broken.”
“And I will not be silenced by the man who broke me.”
The deliberation lasted only four hours.
Guilty on all counts.
Manslaughter.
Fraud.
Obstruction of justice.
As the verdict was read,
Richard collapsed into his chair.
Camille sobbed in the back of the room,
a sound that felt like the final chord of a long,
dreadful song.
The Admiral was sitting in the front row,
her face a mask of iron.
When the judge adjourned,
she walked over to me.
“It’s finished,”
she said.
“The contracts have been revoked,
and Vale Industries is being liquidated.”
“The money will go into a fund for the families of the Arabian Sea victims.”
“Justice was served today,
Evelyn.”
“I don't feel like a winner,”
I said,
looking at my father being led away.
“You aren't a winner,”
she said,
placing a hand on my shoulder.
“You’re an officer.”
“And you did your duty.”
I walked out of the courthouse and into the rain.
Daniel was waiting with an umbrella,
a silent,
steady presence.
We walked to the car,
the water washing away the grime of the courtroom.
I felt a strange sense of lightness.
The battle was over.
The mirror was shattered,
May you like
but for the first time,
I liked what I saw in the pieces.
