Vance’s knees buckled. He was sobbing as the agents physically hauled him out of his leather chair, twisted his arms behind his back, and locked the cuffs onto his wrists. He was dragged down the center aisle, stripped of his robe, his power, and his dignity.
Three hours later, an emergency appellate judge was brought in. After taking one look at the library swipe data and the pharmacy owner's photograph, Marcus’s conviction was instantly vacated.
The chains were unlocked. The orange jumpsuit was traded back for his own clothes.
When Marcus walked out of the holding cell, his father was waiting in the bleak concrete hallway. All the power, all the intimidation of the Attorney General vanished in an instant. David Sterling broke down. He grabbed his son, pulling him into a crushing embrace, burying his face in Marcus's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," David choked out, crying for the first time since his wife died. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there sooner."
"You're here now, Dad," Marcus whispered, hugging him back just as hard. "You're here now."
A year later, Arthur Vance was sentenced to fifteen years in a federal penitentiary without the possibility of parole. Detective Barnes was stripped of his badge and lost his pension.
And Marcus Sterling? He never went back to the engineering department. He changed his major to pre-law. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. He was going to spend it tearing down the system that almost buried him, making sure no innocent kid in a black hoodie ever had to face a monster in a black robe alone.