Chapter 14: The Sentencing
Chapter 14: The Sentencing
Six weeks later, we returned to the same courtroom.
Preston was no longer wearing a tailored suit. He was wearing an orange, scratchy jumpsuit. His hair was messy. He looked hollowed out.
The judge looked down from the bench, his expression stern.
“Mr. Whitmore, I have sat on this bench for twenty years. I have seen crimes of passion, crimes of desperation, and crimes of sheer stupidity. But what you did to your own niece defies logic. It was cruel, it was calculated, and it was entirely unprovoked.”
Preston stared at the floor.
“You shattered the trust of a child to feed your own ego. You weaponized a false accusation. You believed your wealth and status would shield you from the consequences of your violence.”
The judge adjusted his glasses.
“You were wrong.”
He looked down at his paperwork.
“On the combined charges, I sentence you to eight years in the Illinois State Penitentiary, with no possibility of parole for a minimum of five years.”
My mother gasped, leaning heavily against my father, who stared blankly ahead. Eight years. Eight years in a state facility, far away from country clubs, champagne, and people who bowed to his every whim.
As the bailiffs led him away for the final time, the prosecutor, Jenkins, walked over to me. She shook my hand.
“You did good, Evelyn. You protected your little girl.”
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I looked down at Sophie. She was holding a small stuffed bear, looking around the courtroom with wide, curious eyes. She didn't fully understand the legal jargon, but she understood that the bad man was gone.
“I did,” I said.
