THE VERDICT

The sky over Seattle was clear for the first time in weeks.

Alina took it as a sign.

She stood on the courthouse steps again, the morning air cool against her skin, the crowd gathering in slow murmurs. The trial had lasted twelve exhausting days. Testimonies, evidence, arguments—each one another wound opened, another lie undone.

Now it would end.

Elise joined her, holding a folder under one arm, coffee in the other. “They’re ready to announce.”

Alina nodded, unable to trust her voice. Her hands were cold despite the sun.

Inside, the courtroom buzzed like static. Reporters filled every seat; cameras were forbidden, but the energy was electric, alive.

Nathan sat at the defense table, looking smaller than she’d ever seen him. His expensive suit hung loose on his shoulders. The confidence, the charm—gone. What remained was a man hollowed out by his own lies.

The judge entered. Everyone stood. The clerk read the formalities, then the verdicts, each word echoing through the room like thunder.

“On the charge of coercion and fraud… guilty.

On the charge of assault… guilty.

On the charge of witness intimidation… guilty.”

A hush swept through the room.

Nathan didn’t move. His jaw flexed once, his hands tightening on the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white.

The judge continued, her voice even but firm.

“The defendant is hereby sentenced to twenty years, with no possibility of parole before fifteen. He is remanded into custody immediately.”

The gavel struck.

It was done.

Alina didn’t cry.

She thought she would—but when the final word fell, what she felt wasn’t sadness or triumph.

It was release.

The chains she couldn’t see but had carried for years finally slipped free.

She turned toward Elise, who gave a small nod of acknowledgment. No grand words, no celebration—just quiet respect between two women who understood what it had cost to get here.

Nathan was led away in handcuffs. He looked back once. For a fleeting second, the mask almost returned—a half-smile, like he still believed he’d find a way out.

But Alina didn’t look away this time.

She met his gaze and held it, steady, unflinching.

He blinked first.

Outside, the sunlight hit her face like something holy. Reporters surged forward, microphones rising, questions overlapping.

“Alina! How do you feel?”

“Do you have anything to say to other victims?”

“What comes next for you?”

Elise stepped in front of her, clearing the path. “No questions right now,” she said, firm but calm. “Give her space.”

Alina hesitated—then lifted her chin.

“I just want people to know the truth matters,” she said. “Even when it hurts to tell it. Especially then.”

That was all.

It was enough.

Later, the courthouse steps emptied. The crowd faded, leaving only Elise and Alina standing beneath the wide stretch of blue sky.

Elise handed her a small envelope. “You might want this.”

Inside was a single letter—Nathan’s confession, written as part of his plea bargain, though it hadn’t been used in court. His handwriting was precise, almost sterile.

Alina read the first line—‘I don’t know why I did the things I did.’—and stopped.

She folded the paper once, then tore it in half.

“I don’t need his reasons,” she said quietly.

Elise smiled faintly. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

That evening, Alina walked down to the waterfront. The air smelled of salt and spring rain. The city lights shimmered on the water’s surface, bending and breaking with every ripple.

She took out her phone—the same one Elise had given her months ago—and opened her notes app. There was a single document left unread: Plans for Tomorrow.

She smiled to herself. Tomorrow.

For so long, her life had been about surviving today. Now there was a future she could finally imagine—one she could build on her own terms.

As she sat watching the harbor, Sophie joined her, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets.

“They’re starting a support group,” Sophie said. “For women who’ve been through what we have. Elise thinks we could help lead it.”

Alina turned toward her. “You really think anyone would listen to me?”

Sophie grinned. “You took down Nathan Clarke. People will listen.”

Alina laughed—really laughed this time, the sound catching in the breeze. “Then maybe we should make it count.”

Before leaving, she looked out over the darkening water one last time.

Months ago, she’d stood in another window, in another life, watching the same city with dread.

Now, she felt something entirely different.

Peace.

Power.

Freedom.

She whispered into the wind, not as a prayer, but as a promise:

“I’m still here.”

And with that, she turned and walked toward the lights of the city, ready to begin again.