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Sophie was seated with two defense lawyers. Her hair was cut into a pixie cut, and she squared her shoulders and glanced behind her. For a second, she paused on me. Her face was blank. I hadn’t expected more from her.
An elderly woman wearing a black robe walked up, and we all rose. A clerk came to stand in front of the podium, facing us. “The District Court of the State of New York is now in session. The Honorable Judge Anna Mann presiding.”
“You all may be seated,” Judge Mann announced.
“Today is the sentencing hearing for New York State vs. Sophie Wilks. Ms. Wilks, you have already pled guilty to the crime of prostitution and the procurement and distribution of drugs. The court has agreed to consider your help in the cases against Mr. Styles and Mr. Livingston in their sex trafficking and racketeering cases. However, your assistance does not completely absolve you of your crimes. You violated the trust of young girls; some were found to be as young as fourteen. You led them down a path they couldn’t escape easily. While you are not charged with being involved in child prostitution, your acts contributed to irrevocable harm to many young women. Do you have anything left to say before sentencing?”
Sophie stood and straightened her spine. “I’m sorry for the harm I caused to everyone.”
“You have been sentenced to five years. You will begin your time today and be transported to FPC Alderson in Florida for no less than twenty-seven months. You are eligible for parole in eighteen.”
Sophie sobbed into her hands. It was the first emotion I’d ever seen from her. She stood and was handcuffed, then led out the side door.
The court adjourned, and I squeezed Gunnar’s hand. “Thank you.”
“She deserved more time, but Dale assured she helped bring down many patrons. Her information was essential.”
It was how Landon and Trevor ended up in jail. Landon got twenty-five years, Trevor twelve years; however, the longest sentence came for Louis Ralls, with thirty years to life for the abuse of minors. His wife Christina had disappeared from the public eye soon after that, but in her statement, she realized he was guilty as charged. The chapter was closed now, and a weight lifted off my spirit.
We walked out the side door in the back with Ben, and Gunnar gave me a hug. “You take care of yourself, Mrs. Crane.”
He’d turned out to be one of my greatest confidants and a good friend.
I kissed his cheeks. “See you soon.”
Ben pointed at an ice cream place down the road. “Strawberry or chocolate?”
“You know I have no control.”
“Nadia Crane?”
Crane. I still got a rush of excitement at hearing my new name. An elegant, middle-aged woman in a pantsuit came close. Her eyes were brimmed red.
“I hoped I’d get to see you. I suppose you don’t remember me, do you?”
I blinked. “No, I don’t. Sorry.”
“I’m Sophie Wilks’s mom. We met on orientation day.”
Ben stepped close to me and put his hand out. “Don’t step any closer.”
She stiffened. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m sorry about what happened to you. Sophie wants you to know she’s sorry.” She wiped her eyes with the handkerchief in her hand. “She was taken advantage of too. She’s not from here, either…like you.”
Everyone knew my story because of the criminal and civil trials, not to mention being the new wife of Paul Crane. We also did our own interview to make sure everyone got our story right. However, there was nothing left to say.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Wilks.” I walked on with Ben, leaving her staring after me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“That went better than I expected.” Mrs. Wilks knew I was part of why her daughter went to jail for her crimes. I didn’t know much about what Sophie would go through, only that my birth mom Celeste had found a new path after she left incarceration. I hoped the same for Sophie.
I glanced over my shoulder and caught Isabelle placing her arm around Mrs. Wilks. Isabelle’s testimony was the most damaging for Landon and Sophie, but in the end, she was there for Sophie’s mom. They had a relationship I didn’t understand or care about anymore. She had changed her name to Belle, and from what I heard, moved to Florida and opened a swim shop there. It was over, and I would finally put it all behind me.
We got in the car and drove to New York School of Design. I hadn’t expected my life would change so much when I arrived here almost two years ago. I quickly walked to Professor Elan’s lecture and sat at the back of the new student orientation. A few students turned and eyed me curiously, but as usual, Professor Elan strolled in with a commanding presence. All focus went to her at the podium.
“You were chosen for your potential. Half of you will quit before the end of your first year, and the odds of any of you having a career after graduation are even less. Still, at least a few of you will exceed all expectations and rise to the level you need to become a fashion designer. And like I tell everyone every year, you only design because you love it.”
Even though her speech was quite bleak, I still remember feeling inspired. I was going to have my own store one day. That was as far as I dreamed then—limited to my experiences. Now I knew I could do anything, not because I was Mrs. Crane, but because I loved design.
