Chapter 17 - The Trial Begins.
Jury selection took nine days.
Nearly everyone in Chicago had heard something about the Hale case.
Potential jurors had seen the ballroom video, headlines about the trust, or photographs of Preston being carried from the hotel.
The judge instructed them to decide only from evidence presented in court.
Twelve jurors and six alternates were selected.
The prosecution tried Preston and my father together for the central conspiracy, though some financial charges would be handled separately.
Their attorneys sat at different tables.
They barely looked at each other.
My mother entered the courtroom in custody.
She had pleaded guilty to conspiracy, fraud, and obstruction in exchange for truthful testimony.
Her sentence would be decided later.
Preston watched her with hatred.
Father looked through her as though she had never existed.
The prosecution began with the wedding.
They played footage of Preston placing the phone inside Sophie’s coat.
The courtroom remained silent.
Then they played the assault.
I kept my eyes on the jury instead of the screen.
Several jurors flinched.
One woman covered her mouth.
Preston stared straight ahead.
His attorney argued that he acted during an emotional breakdown caused by pressure from my father.
Father’s attorney argued that Preston alone chose violence.
The men who once protected each other now built their defenses from mutual betrayal.
Malik testified about the camera system.
He explained the deletion attempt, the independent backup, and the access credentials linked to Madison’s coordinator account.
Madison had negotiated immunity for her cooperation.
She admitted Preston told her he intended to accuse Sophie of theft.
She believed the scandal would help remove me from the trust dispute.
“Did you know he planned to strike Sophie?” the prosecutor asked.
“No.”
“What did you do when he struck her?”
Madison lowered her eyes.
“Nothing.”
“Why?”
“I was afraid the wedding would become a public scandal.”
The prosecutor paused.
“A child was bleeding.”
“Yes.”
“And your concern was publicity?”
“Yes.”
Madison cried.
The jury did not appear moved.
Jonah testified next.
He described seeing Preston pay Voss.
He identified Preston as one of the men who attacked him in the garage.
Under cross-examination, Preston’s attorney accused him of seeking attention.
Jonah lifted his shirt enough to reveal the scar near his ribs.
“This is the attention I received.”
Michael testified for two days.
He explained the falsified reports, the crash, the secret investigation, and his years in hiding.
Father’s attorney attacked his decision to abandon his pregnant partner.
Michael did not avoid responsibility.
“I believed distance would protect them.”
“Was that belief correct?”
“No.”
“You watched your daughter grow without you.”
“Yes.”
“You allowed Evelyn to believe you were dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then why should this jury trust you?”
Michael looked toward the jurors.
“They should not trust me because I was a good father.”
“I was not.”
“They should trust the records because the records do not need forgiveness.”
The engineering documents supported every claim.
The Northstar ledger supported every payment.
Crowe testified that Father authorized the corruption while Preston handled intimidation.
Voss admitted helping with the hotel and townhouse crimes.
Then my mother took the stand.
She looked toward me once.
I did not react.
She described decades of protecting Preston.
School fights concealed.
Drunk-driving incidents settled.
Employees paid to remain silent.
She admitted encouraging me to doubt my own memories.
“Why?” the prosecutor asked.
“Because peace in our house meant Preston was pleased.”
“Who taught him that?”
“My husband and I did.”
Preston shook his head.
“You liar,” he whispered.
The judge warned him.
Mother continued.
“Richard demanded obedience.”
“But I rewarded it.”
“I made Evelyn smaller so Preston could feel larger.”
“What happened at the wedding?”
“We planned to place the phone in Sophie’s jacket.”
“Why?”
“To suggest Evelyn had raised a dishonest and unsupervised child.”
“And after Preston struck Sophie?”
“I protected him.”
“Why?”
Mother’s voice broke.
“Because I had protected him for so long that admitting the truth felt like admitting my entire life was wrong.”
The defense attacked her plea agreement.
They called her manipulative.
Self-serving.
Jealous.
Perhaps some of it was true.
But the recordings confirmed her testimony.
Finally, I took the stand.
I described Sophie’s blood on the menu.
I described the way my parents stood beside Preston.
I described his threat, the break-in, and the trust.
Preston’s attorney approached for cross-examination.
“Ms. Hale, you have resented your brother since childhood, correct?”
“No.”
“You were jealous of the attention he received.”
“I wanted my parents to love me without requiring me to disappear.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only honest answer.”
“You gained control of a multibillion-dollar company after this incident.”
“Sophie gained control through my grandfather’s will.”
“And you exercise that control.”
“As her guardian.”
“You benefited financially.”
“I remained employed as a nurse until security threats forced me to take leave.”
“You expect the jury to believe this case is not about money?”
I looked toward Preston.
“This case is about a man who believed money meant he could hit a child and call her the criminal.”
The attorney changed direction.
“Did you ever strike your brother?”
“Yes.”
The courtroom stirred.
“When?”
“When I was sixteen.”
“Why?”
“He was holding my head beneath the water in our swimming pool.”
“Was that reported?”
“No.”
“Convenient.”
“My parents called it a game.”
The attorney smiled faintly.
“So you admit your memories are shaped by resentment.”
“No.”
“My memories are shaped by surviving him.”
The prosecution’s final witness was Sophie.
She did not enter the courtroom.
Her recorded interview played on monitors.
She described the phone.
The threat.
The board.
Then Dr. Ellis asked why Sophie decided to tell the truth.
On screen, my daughter held Captain Marshmallow.
“Because Uncle Preston said no one would believe me.”
“What do you want him to know?”
Sophie looked directly into the camera.
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“I want him to know the camera believed me.”
The courtroom remained silent long after the recording ended.
