Chapter 8 - The Verdict
At 4:15 p.m., the court reconvened.
The atmosphere in Courtroom 4B was charged with an electric sense of anticipation. When the jury filed back into the box, none of them looked at the defense table—a classic sign that every legal observer in the room recognized instantly.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Harrison asked.
The jury foreperson, an elderly woman with sharp, kind eyes, stood up. "We have, Your Honor."
She handed the slip of paper to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge. Judge Harrison read it silently, nodded, and handed it back.
"On the first count of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, how do you find the defendant, Mark Bellamy?"
"Guilty," the foreperson read clearly.
"On the second count of attempted murder, how do you find the defendant, Luke Bellamy?"
"Guilty."
"On the count of witness intimidation and conspiracy..."
The list went on. Guilty across the board. Every single charge landed like a hammer blow against the defense table. Bellamy’s nephews slumped in their chairs, while their uncle Arthur was led away in chains by federal officers in the adjacent hallway.
A collective sigh of relief washed through the courtroom. I pulled Caleb into my arms, tears streaming down my face, pressing my cheek against his soft, thin hair.
"You did it, baby," I sobbed into his shoulder. "You did it."
May you like
Caleb wrapped his thin arms around my neck, holding me tight. "We did it, Mom."
Behind us, the gallery erupted into respectful applause. Bear and the Iron Guardians stood in the back row, their heavy hands clapping, their stern faces finally breaking into broad, victorious grins.
