Chapter 33
PHOEBE
I’m the odd person in this picture, but the ongoing trial is far too intense and way too exciting for anyone’s curious gaze to linger on me for too long. I found myself a seat at the back of the courtroom—out of sight and close to the door—in case I need a clean break.
My heart feels heavy as I stare at the back of my mother’s head.
She’s seated at a table with her lawyers, Mr. Harding among them.
Crystal sits next to Mom, looking particularly faded and tired in the grey pantsuit she’s wearing.
They’re going for a conservative look to soften whatever blow the judge is about to give them.
“Almost there,” Penny whispers beside me.
We snuck in together long after everyone else was seated to avoid any questions or requests for interviews from nosy reporters. Now, they’re all too busy filming and photographing the last part of a highly controversial trial.
The People vs. Helen and Crystal Baldwin.
“I hardly recognize her,” I tell Penny.
“Who, your mom?”
“Yes.”
Helen Baldwin is makeup free, her blonde hair pulled into a neat bun, her silk shirt fresh and white.
Although Crystal cooperated with the authorities, she’s not entirely off the hook.
At best, she’ll get a reduced sentence. It’s not looking good for them, and while I’m inclined to feel sorry for what they’re going through, they both had it coming.
These are the consequences of their actions. I’ve made my peace with that.
“Alright, I’ve heard all the motions and testimonies and I’ve gone over all the evidence from both sides,” the judge, a burly man in his late sixties says. “Do the People or the defense wish to make any other statements?”
“Not at this time, Your Honor,” the District Attorney says.
“The defense rests, as well,” Mr. Harding replies.
“It’s not like they can sweeten the pot anymore,” Penny tells me. “There’s just too much evidence. I heard rumors from the DA’s office that the information Helen provided about the gambling ring wasn’t anywhere near as useful as they’d hoped.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“It shortens the prospect of a good deal, that’s for sure. Crystal, bless her heart, was smart enough to turn on Helen, securing herself a reduced sentence, most likely.”
They’re not even looking at each other, seated so their shoulders are angled away from one another, proving the strife and separation between them. It shouldn’t come as a surprise. Mom assumed Crystal would join her on the sinking ship.
My phone vibrates. It’s a text from Dominic. Penny leans in to read it.
Guests are arriving.
“Great,” I mumble.
“Just a few more minutes, then we’re out,” Penny assures me. “Judge Isles doesn’t like to waste time. His docket is always full.”
“In that case, I will proceed with a verdict,” the judge says. “Will the defendants please rise?”
Slowly, Mom and Crystal stand up.
I can’t see their faces, but I can certainly feel the dread coming off them in icy, cold waves. The attorneys stand as well, and it seems the entire courtroom holds its collective breath as Judge Isles looks down at my mother and sister.
“For the charges listed, I find the defendants guilty beyond any reasonable doubt,” he declares.
Almost instantly, I hear my mom’s and sister’s lungs deflate with discontent and misery.
“Despite your attempts to cooperate with the District Attorney, I am aware that you only did so in the hopes of reducing your sentence.
I have seen no remorse for what you have done.
“And you’ve done plenty, Mrs. Baldwin. You stole money from your own company, costing innocent people their jobs.
You manipulated assets and the financial market, causing disruptions while lying to the federal authorities on every matter that was brought before you.
You then proceeded to manipulate the board of executives and the public opinion, turning them against one of your own children, solely for the purpose of covering your own hind. ”
My mother fidgets.
“It’s not a pretty picture, Mrs. Baldwin.
And going easy on you would only go to besmirch the justice system’s already shaky reputation in matters of white-collar crime.
Too many CEO’s have gotten away with their hands clean despite causing billions in prejudices to the country’s economy and damage to innocent, hardworking folks. I plan to make an example out of you.”
“Your Honor,” Mom manages, but Judge Isles raises a hand to silence her.
“I sentence you to ten years in a medium-security prison,” he says. “Your personal assets have been frozen and will be redistributed to Baldwin Enterprises to cover some of the damages you’ve caused. Should they seek to sue you for additional damages, they will be free to do so.”
His words land hard and without mercy.
Again, the child in me is tempted to feel pity for her, but the reality is harsh and indisputable.
And frankly, ten years feels like a soft sentence compared to everything she’s done—not just to me, but to my father’s company, his legacy, and the many folks who fell victim as collateral damage to her embezzlement schemes.
“Miss Crystal Baldwin,” Judge Isles shifts his focus to my sister while Mom collapses in her chair, utterly devastated. “I understand you agreed to a deal with the District Attorney’s office in exchange for a reduced sentence.”
Crystal nods once. “Y–yes, sir. Your Honor.”
“And a guilty plea.”
“Yes, Your Honor. On all charges,” she replies.
“I shall honor the agreement and sentence you to two years in a minimum-security facility, with the possibility of parole after six months, provided the parole board is pleased with your rehabilitation efforts,” he says.
“What about my assets?” Crystal eagerly asks.
“As with your mother’s, they will be reverted back to the company.”
“Come on, let’s roll,” Penny says and takes me by the hand.
As soon as we get up, voices erupt in a curious murmur as some people start to notice us. By the time we reach the courtroom doors, Mom and Crystal have turned around and see me. In all my newfound splendor. Heavily pregnant and clad in my sparkling white wedding dress.
Our eyes meet.
“Shit,” I whisper.
Penny pushes through the doors and drags me out. I catch a final glimpse of contempt from my mother and bitterness from my sister, enough to remind me that this whole trial wasn’t meant for their redemption but for their prosecution and punishment.
“I don’t think they regret any of it,” I say to Penny as we rush out of the courthouse and down the steps.
At the bottom, a large, silver SUV awaits us, the driver motioning for us to hurry since he’s in a no parking zone.
“Give them a couple of weeks in prison,” Penny says. “They’ll start to feel the sting of it all once they’re confined to their cells, alone with their thoughts and their conscience. They’re not yet aware of what it’s like to pay for what they’ve done.”
“Man, that was intense,” I say. “They saw us as we were leaving.”
“Good. That means they saw you looking like a queen, headed to your wedding,” Penny laughs. “The universe works in fantastic ways, sometimes.”
“Hold on, I’m just a few weeks away from my due date. I can’t run in these shoes!”
“Ready?” she asks, giving me a brilliant smile.
“To marry the men of my dreams? You’re damn right, sister!”
Twenty minutes later, we practically stumble out of the car and into the wedding chapel, where over a hundred guests have gathered, along with a throng of reporters and internet influencers.
“I wanted a small wedding,” I mutter as Penny straightens her deep purple bridesmaid’s dress and takes charge of her bouquet, then hands me mine.
She had everything waiting for us, ready to be handled as soon as we got back from court.
Frankly, I doubt I would’ve even had a wedding day without her unending support and planning.
Dominic, August, and Theo have been my rocks throughout the whole trial and wedding planning process, but it was Penny who made sure all the details that mattered wouldn’t be overlooked.
Mr. Terrence approaches us, a warm smile on his face. “Ready to be given away, Miss Baldwin?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, you weren’t planning on walking yourself down the aisle, were you?”
“I–I don’t really have anyone.”
“You have me. Your father may not be here to walk you down the aisle, but I am. I cannot, in good conscience, let you do this alone.”
“Thank you, Mr. Terrence,” I manage, fighting back tears as he offers me his arm, looking dapper in his silver-grey tux. “This means a lot to me.”
“It’s my honor, Miss Baldwin.”
“Please, call me Phoebe.”
“Only if you call me John.”
“Alright, John. Are we ready, then? I’ve got three hot grooms waiting for me in there,” I laugh.
Penny gives me a smile as she knocks on the doors, signaling the usher inside to open them for us.
“Hey, you started it with a bang. Might as well end it the same,” she says.
The doors swing wide open and the ceremony hall unfolds before us, with gold-brushed archways, flowers pouring down organza stems from the ceiling, and satin ribbons adorning the white-wooden pews. The guests all get up at the same time as the organist begins to play the wedding march.
I hold my breath as I see my future husbands waiting at the altar.
“My God, you’re perfect,” Dominic mouths as I smile at him.
I wink at him, admiring each of them with glowing love in my heart. They look so handsome in three different shades of gray tuxes with dark vests and crisp white shirts. Silver cufflinks sparkle on their wrists, their eyes shining and their lips stretched into three gorgeous smiles.
They’re wonderful.
And they’re mine, as soon as we say yes.
“Remind me again, you’re only marrying one of them, legally speaking, right?” John Terrence whispers.
Penny goes ahead, leading our small procession. Cameras flash. Some of the guests gasp while others take photos and videos with their phones. I imagine the internet buzzing as the recordings hit live, giving the whole world a glimpse of my purest, most heartfelt joy.
“Yes. We agreed it will be Dominic. But today, in this chapel, I’m marrying all three in the eyes of the Lord,” I tell John.
“Good. You deserve happiness in triplicate form, Phoebe.”
Apparently, the fates agree, as I head down the aisle and brace myself for the amazing future ahead. I take each step with pride and tears of happiness, taking deep breaths, as my fiancés smile and wait for me to join them at the altar.