Reborn by Melody Anne

Chapter Six

The morning of the federal trial against Anna Miller, former senator and a front runner for President of the United States of America, had arrived. She’d been loved by many without them having any idea of who she truly was.

Joseph and Damien stood together. They’d been silent for a full minute, maybe a new record for Joseph. He squirmed as he looked at his nephew.

“Are you sure about this?” Joseph asked.

“Yes,” Damien replied without hesitation.

“Okay. I’m going to honor your decision, but I don’t know if I’d make the same one. What Anna did to you, and to your family, is horrific — being your sister makes it worse. I . . .” Joseph was going to go down a list of reasons why family should treat each other with as much respect as possible, but he forced himself to stop. He needed to do what he said, and that meant honoring Damien’s decision.

“I sent over the request to remove all aspects of the civil lawsuit against Anna to the lawyers ten minutes ago,” Damien said. “I find no joy in this situation, but I know once this trial is over she’ll be in prison for a large portion of her life, maybe until she dies. What’s to be gained, other than ripping the financial rug out from under her? Honestly, it’s taken more time and energy than anyone thought. I don’t mind discussing the reasons in more detail but I’d rather not. She isn’t worth my time.”

“Then it won’t be spoken of again, my boy,” Joseph said to his nephew.

The two shook hands and turned toward the courtroom doors. As they entered the room a cacophony of sounds rushed over them. The entire space behind the barrier between the lawyers and the crowd was at full capacity. Not only were all of the seats filled with an occupant but so was every space that could be found to stand. Most in the standing-room-only section held cameras and press badges around their necks.

The judge, the honorable Macy R. Scott, had a long conversation with both the attorney general and Anna Miller’s counsel, making it abundantly clear that in a case such as this the entire world needed to see how the justice system in America worked. As long as the media maintained decorum, and respected her courtroom, they’d be able to record every minute of the proceedings. She then told the legal teams it was expected that neither side would try to play this trial out in the media by giving lengthy interviews about the case or holding press conferences each day on how the ebb and flow of the trial was going.

Neither side liked the last part of the judge’s mandate but agreed anyway. The judge had a strong record of being fair in the face of facts and well-played strategies within the law, but she didn’t suffer a fool when it came to those who attempted to lead her, or her courtroom, by the nose by a lawyer who tried to play to the emotions of the court through the media.

More than once she’d thrown a lawyer out of her courtroom and a handful of times had found an attorney in contempt of court. None of those who were thrown out or found in contempt had complained that it was done unjustly. Judge Miller was tough but more than fair in letting everyone know where the line was, and that line was never allowed to be crossed. Those who did never crossed it again.

Joseph and Damien walked into the courtroom to two open seats that had been reserved for them, directly behind the attorney general. The rest of the row was taken up by men and women of the Anderson family. They all agreed to take turns attending the trial. While it was feasible for them to all show up, it would’ve been too much for the courtroom to handle. If they’d all wanted to come, the trial would’ve needed to be moved to a sports stadium.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve ever sat in on a trial. I wish it wasn’t such a volatile situation and I wasn’t involved in any way because it would be interesting to sit here and take in all sides of the story,” Damien said to Joseph and Chad, who was sitting next to the patriarch of the family.

“Nah, when you have no emotions invested in the trial it’s rather dry and mundane,” Chad said.

“I agree. There’s a big difference between being invested in the event and not caring about the outcome,” Joseph added.

The crowd behind them went from a low murmur of conversations between colleagues to an instant snap of silence as the door to the side of the courtroom opened. An officer walked through with Anna Miller in tow. She wore a fine suit, but handcuffs hadn’t been considered when it had been made.

It was obvious that a great deal of care had gone into beautifying the former senator, but the woman who’d previously been a true powerhouse in the Seattle area and beyond, now looked weak, meager, and a shell of her former self. Even though she’d been broken, she still held her head high. Even with a confident step in her walk, you could see the shallowness in her eyes. Jail had a tendency to do that to even the strongest of people. Before she sat with her legal team, the officer released her from the shackles.

Once Anna was seated, the hushed conversations slowly started again. All of the cameras were pointed at the back of Anna’s head, each operator hoping she’d angle her face toward their lens, allowing them to get the shot to start off the trial, knowing it would be streamed and shared by almost every person in the country. Unfortunately for all of the media Anna didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge them, didn’t even give them anything to report other than she was there and was responding to her attorneys as they spoke. Even the coffee cup she drank from was focused on, but it wasn’t newsworthy as there were only so many ways someone could discuss a plain white cup with a lid fastened atop.

Another five minutes passed before the jurors were brought into the courtroom. Seven women and five men made up the jury. Almost all of them looked terrified to be put in the position of having a packed courtroom looking directly at them, with cameras focused on their faces. As they sat in their respective chairs, some of the jurors looked around at the sea of faces while others barely moved their eyes from the top of their shoes.

“All rise for the honorable Macy R. Scott; this court is now in session,” the bailiff bellowed.

The judge came in, asked everyone to sit, and had the bailiff swear in the jurors.

“I’ve spoken with members of the media already, but I need this to be heard by all in attendance, and for those who will be attending at any point during this trial,” the judge said, pausing and meeting several of the audience’s eyes. “I won’t tolerate outbursts, conversations, or interruptions of any kind. If you have cell phones, silence them now. If your phone rings, alarms, or chimes in any way, you and your phone will be removed from my courtroom. I expect each of you are of sound mind and body — meaning you can hold your bathroom breaks until I break for recesses. Emergencies happen and I understand, but if you leave the courtroom before a recess you won’t be able to return until we all return. I’m allowing media to be here, and I’ll allow you to record on your phones, but your arms cannot be extended out or up in any way. Again, if you do not abide by these courtroom rules, you’ll be removed. These expectations might seem harsh, but they’re in place to allow the legal teams and the jury to focus on what’s presented.”

The judge paused again as she looked at the subdued audience. No one in that room wanted to be kicked out for the most exciting case they’d seen in a long time.

“Prosecution, you may start with your opening statement,” Judge Scott stated.

“Thank you, your honor,” the lawyer said.

It took the prosecuting attorney twenty-three minutes to get through his opening statement. The range of topics he was able to discuss in that timeframe, as well as the ability to create emotions attached to those topics, was incredible. The jurors eyes came to life, their backs straightened, and it was evident to all watching that the storyteller had captured each of the jurors with his cornucopia of words.

The biggest draw was how he managed to lay out how an individual who’d been on the path to becoming president of the United States had used her power to not only manipulate money and power for decades but to physically abuse someone to the point they could’ve died. At the very end of his monologue he simply said: “. . . and not only was all of this treacherous and horrific in so many ways, but Ms. Miller did all of this to her own brother. He had no idea they were related, but she’d known her entire life and set all of this into motion to ruin his life, and more horrifyingly to end it.”

That shocking statement hadn’t yet made it into the mainstream media. In fact, even Anna’s own lawyers hadn’t known of the bombshell the prosecutor had just dropped. The gasps from the attendees, and the reaction from the defendant’s table, was usually more than enough for the judge to strike her gavel to gain control of the room, but even she was shocked by the proclamation.

Judge Scott quickly regained her composure and requested the same of the courtroom, but admitted to herself, if that information was true it was going to make things much harder on the defense team. Going after family members never bode well with jurors and at the level Anna had gone after Damien wasn’t a good look for the woman currently on trial.

When Anna had blurted out her story to Courtney a few months earlier, Courtney could’ve gone wide with the information as soon as she’d left the front door of the jail. Courtney was smarter than that, though, and had gone straight to Joseph.

Joseph had then taken the information straight to Damien. That’s how they’d ended up at the jail, meeting with Anna. Why Anna hadn’t told her lawyers that Damien was her brother, or that she’d met with Joseph and Damien, was a mystery. They weren’t sure what she was doing. The prosecutor delivered the news perfectly. The effect on the drooling reporters was like a bolt of lightning.

“Why would he do this to me?” Anna Miller could be heard saying to her counsel.

“Stop. Be quiet. We’ll get to that,” her attorney replied.

Tears started falling down Anna’s face as she looked over at the prosecuting attorney and then at Damien. She just kept mouthing the word why while shaking her head in confusion. She brought her head around and faced the jury, so they could all see the fake pain in her face and the tears freely flowing. She wasn’t done yet, though. She was good — she was really good. She’d perfected her acting abilities. Her time in jail hadn’t dimmed that at all.

Anna Miller put both of her hands over her face and started sobbing, her shoulders rolling forward, convulsing almost uncontrollably. Whatever momentum the prosecution had created with the jurors was lost with the outburst from Anna. They hadn’t counted on her acting abilities being just as powerful as her desire to destroy Damien.

“She played us, setting all of this up, knowing we’d use it,” Damien whispered.

“It’s the first throw of the first inning of a very long game. Let’s just see how it all ends,” Joseph calmly replied. His eyes were carefully examining Anna, and he wasn’t going to let on about how impressed he was with the lunatic. He was confident in the prosecutor, who was a shark that would swallow Anna whole during the course of this case. Joseph had no worries at all.

The judge gave multiple warnings to Anna, then to Anna’s attorneys, to stop the interruption, and to compose herself before she finally slammed her gavel down and demanded the outburst be contained.

It didn’t matter to the jury that Anna seemed to recover quickly from the shock to her soul. Enough of them had softened their hearts at seeing the poor woman break down in an obvious state of disbelief. She’d created a sense of doubt in the jurors minds, and that was all she’d needed to do to have a chance of getting out of this mess.

Juries could free the guilty or imprison the innocent — and there was nothing the courts could do about it in an imperfect justice system.