Chapter 18 - The Trial of Beautiful PeopleThe trial began four months later.
The press called it the Trial of Beautiful People.
I hated that name.
There was nothing beautiful about what they had done.
Julian entered court wearing a navy suit and the expression of a man trying to remember how innocence looked.
His lawyer painted him as reckless but not criminal.
Privileged but not predatory.
Misunderstood but not monstrous.
Then the prosecution played the ballroom footage.
The courtroom watched him shove me.
Watched him laugh.
Watched him deny it.
Then they played Clara’s testimony.
Then the payment records.
Then the threats.
Then Celeste outside Clara’s home.
Then Malcolm’s voice ordering evidence destroyed.
One by one, the pretty words died.
When I took the stand, Julian stared at the table.
He would not look at me.
That almost made me angrier than the attack.
Men like him wanted power over women, but never the burden of seeing us clearly.
The prosecutor asked, “Ms. Vale, what did you feel when the exits locked?”
I answered honestly.
“Relief.”
A murmur moved through the courtroom.
“Why?”
“Because for once, the people who always escaped had to stay in the room with what they did.”
Julian finally looked up.
May you like
I held his gaze.
And this time, he looked away first.
