Chapter 7 - THE TRIAL OF THE CENTURYSix months later, the courtroom of the Manhattan Supreme Court was packed to capacity.
I sat in the front row of the gallery, wearing a crisp navy blazer, my posture upright, my skin glowing with health.
Across the aisle, sitting behind the defense table in a prison-issued gray suit, Derek Mercer looked like a broken ghost. His hair was thinning, his arrogance completely shattered by months of isolation in maximum security.
The jury foreman stood up, holding a stiff parchment envelope.
"In the case of the People versus Derek Mercer," the foreman announced clearly, "on all counts of premeditated first-degree murder, evidence tampering, and poisoning, the jury finds the defendant... GUILTY."
A collective wave of gasps and murmurs rippled through the courtroom.
Derek slumped forward, burying his face in his cuffed hands, finally weeping real tears of defeat.
Judge Sterling slammed his gavel down with a resounding crack. "Mr. Mercer, I sentence you to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Court is adjourned."
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As the bailiffs yanked Derek to his feet and dragged him away through the side doors, he caught my eye one last time.
I didn't smile. I didn't gloat. I just looked at him with cold, absolute indifference—the exact look he deserved.
