Chapter 101

In the days leading up to the hearing, words returned before trust did.

At first, they spoke only of small things. Food. Light. Sleep. Esther would sit beside Niran during meals, mirroring her pace, refilling her water before it was empty, adjusting the blanket when her shoulders tensed. At night, they shared the same room again, separated only by the soft hush of breathing and the unspoken fear of silence.

Esther had resumed her role without being asked: nurse, shadow, witness. She moved carefully, as if any sudden gesture might fracture what little peace had reformed between them.

The first crack in Niran’s clinical armor came over a simple meal. As Esther stood to clear the plates one evening, swaying slightly, her hand pressed to the edge of the table for balance, Niran’s hand shot out. It was not a cold command, but a gentle, lingering touch on Esther’s wrist.

“Rest,” Niran whispered, her voice sandpaper-rough but heavy with a new, terrifying empathy. “I’ll do it.”

The room stilled.

Esther looked at her as if unsure she had heard correctly. Then she obeyed, slowly, eyes bright with something that hurt more than gratitude.

They were still at the clinic, but no longer in its sterile corridors. The apartment they now occupied was warmer, with wider windows, a place where the air no longer felt borrowed.

Professor Vane, accompanied by Adeline, Yada, Polo, Roger, Miss Kai, and Ralph, gradually explained to Niran the nature of her condition and what to expect during the trial. Although Esther had sent warnings to her family through Yada without speaking to them directly, it was a bitter pill for Mr. Suppanon Dara to swallow.

A humiliation he had never anticipated. Learning that the very woman he had once dismissed, belittled, and erased now stood at the center of a storm he could not control. He prepared interviews, narratives sharpened to destroy Williams before she could speak.

Finally came the moment everyone awaited.

The courthouse was a cathedral of polished mahogany and cold, judgmental marble.

The world screamed outside while inside, the silence was a physical weight.

Mr. Dara sat in the front row, his spine a rigid line of old-world arrogance. He had prepared his venom, ready to paint Williams as a monster to save his own fading prestige.

Unfortunately, he was not faster than the “Nine-Tailed Fox,” Makizal. From the very start of the trial, Makizal employed a brilliant ruse as planned. Thanks to Yada’s connections with certain judges, Oswald was released on the condition that he no longer approach Williams or mention her name in the press. But Makizal, needing the man’s efficiency, decided to make an exception for this specific case.

Using his secret services, Makizal gathered evidence of Williams’ past to unmask, one by one, the dark stories that would shake the city forever.

This trial became not only the most publicized case in history, but also the most tragic.

As it unfolded, the “Grand Cleanup” became a “Grand Unmasking.”

The lives of Williams and her mother were laid bare. What she had endured in that elite school, every child who had bullied her, and every parent, teacher, or staff member who had covered it up. The narrative explained how she had managed to rise above it, but also what had triggered her breakdown, including the incident with Oswald, the vengeful gunfire, and the miraculous reappearance of Esther.

To protect the hospital’s interests, the “accidental embryo” case was slightly altered. Makizal opted for a transparency that was partial but hard-hitting.

Dr. Niran Williams faced serious charges: attempted murder and endangerment of others. On the day of the hearing, the courtroom was packed. Esther’s relatives, Williams’ acquaintances, and families from every social class were present.

Piece by piece, evidence surfaced: old records, sealed testimonies, forgotten files. The city watched as the past was dragged into daylight.

Williams’s gaze remained fixed on the jury. Dressed in a dark, clean-cut suit with nothing decorative. She bore the marks of sleeplessness on her face, but her posture did not yield. She relied on her defense led by Yada, supported by Polo and the others.

Several witnesses were called to the stand. Everyone who had worked with Williams, closely or at a distance, testified that her recent actions in no way reflected the person they knew.

The question, “Who is the real Dr. Niran Williams?” became the rallying cry for a battle against a system that had failed to protect a broken woman.

And with Esther by her side, Oswald’s strategy bore fruit, and support began to pour in from all directions.

Granted, Dr. Williams was not naturally pleasant. She never smiled, had no friends, fired people as quickly as she hired them, and spoke only to give orders. Hearing this, Mr. Dara smiled, thinking that such blatant arrogance would be her downfall.

But Yada turned these testimonies to Williams’ advantage. Standing at the lectern, her voice a clarion call, she did not defend Williams’ coldness. She weaponized it.

“Dr. Williams is not a woman you love,” Yada declared, her gaze sweeping over the packed room. “She is the woman you trust when your life is on the line. Her arrogance is her excellence. Her silence is her focus. She gave the world her genius, and the world gave her a psychotic break.”

Yes, that was it. If she sought nothing but excellence and never yielded to whims, it was for the ultimate benefit of her patients. Client satisfaction, charitable donations, exceptional rates, and high-quality care. Patients were always treated with the highest esteem.

Witness after witness, nurses, janitors, even former patients, testified to a woman who was a ghost in the hallways but a god in the operating room. The narrative shifted from a “shooting” to a “tragedy of the system.”

Williams experienced the day as a form of restorative memory therapy. She was finally beginning to understand who she was and what she had become. She never expected her story to become an international sensation.

Oswald took great delight in exposing the corrupt elite school, denouncing every complicit member of the administration. He finally avenged the honor of the one brave teacher who had tried to seek justice at the risk of his job, Sir Gerald.

It was a windfall for the journalist, who became a millionaire alongside his colleagues. Karma did not wait. A wave of firings, resignations, and fugitives followed. The school was placed under investigation and stripped of its prestige. Through Niran’s story, many others found the courage to speak out about the abuse they had suffered in various institutions.

The psychiatrists, including the court-appointed expert, were unanimous.

Williams had acted during a psychotic episode and did not belong in prison.

Meanwhile, Professor Vane took all the credit that belonged to Adeline and Roger, portraying the latter as incompetent and Adeline as a clumsy novice. Despite this, Adeline held her ground against Vane.

At the end of the trial, the courtroom fell into a heavy silence. Everyone questioned the very definition of justice. They realized that you could lose someone while they were still alive, and that depression does not always show itself through tears. Sometimes it manifests as a dangerous silence, that of an individual who has stopped fighting and watches the world like a movie, with a detonator in hand.

One by one, the victims of the endangerment charges retracted their claims, wanting to avoid being on the wrong side of history.

Finally, Williams stood to hear her sentence: NOT GUILTY BY REASON OF DIMINISHED RESPONSIBILITY.

She was, however, ordered to undergo mandatory therapy and pay fines to those who experienced that day as a nightmare.

“Good luck to you, Dr. Niran Williams. We will remember you as a dignified and respected woman. Let this incident remain behind you. Turn the page and compensate the victims,” the judge concluded.

Cries of relief broke out. Miss Kai and Esther were in tears. Williams, with a thin smile on her lips, allowed herself to be embraced.

Esther watched her for a moment.

“So that was it,” she thought sadly, before leaving the courthouse, heading toward a place she had missed so much.

Outside, Yada walked beside Williams, shielding her with practiced ease as they faced journalists hungry for an exclusive.

Kiya watched her wife from a distance, savoring the moment they could finally be reunited.

“You see, Milly? If you become like Yada, you will defend cases like this,” Kiya said.

“I want to be like Dr. Niran Williams. I want to save lives and be respected despite the difficulties,” Milly replied.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “You know, at the foster home, it wasn’t like home. They weren’t always kind.”

Kiya hugged her sister. “I regret leaving you there.”

“I know you never stopped fighting for me as Mom would have.”

Kiya looked at her sister, then turned towards the crowd where Niran and her mother were. So maybe she wasn’t so different from Miss Kai, she thought. What wouldn’t one do for their family?

“What if we left here and went to get some ice cream, or whatever you want?”

“Without Yada?”

“Yes, I’ll text her.”

Milly smiled at Yada. “Youpii, a walk and ice cream then?”

“Let’s go.” Kiya left a message for Yada and set off with her little sister.

Meanwhile, Adeline watched Professor Vane and the rest of the group give Williams the floor. Williams slowly recounted the events that had been explained to her regarding her condition, and Vane clarified his statements.

After brief questions, a journalist finally asked Williams, “What do you plan to do next, Dr. Williams?”

She hesitated, silence stretching long before she answered. “I had a project I was working on, the WE Kids Project, intended to help over two hundred children battling cancer this coming year. So, if all goes well, Dr. Niran Williams will bring you good news.”

Adeline looked at Roger.

“I knew something was off,” Adeline whispered while Roger stood beside her.

An innocuous sentence that went unnoticed by most did not escape Professor Vane, who froze, his gaze searching for Adeline.

“Wait,” Roger stopped her. “What does this mean?”

“That we are all in danger. A word of advice. Go and take refuge in a retirement home. When all this glitz and glamour is gone, Williams will hunt you down.” Adeline turned to leave, but Roger held her arm. With teary eyes, she handed her a key.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Adeline. I already knew. Everything is inside the key.”

Adeline put it in her pocket. Before she could add a word, Roger left.

After the interview, Williams approached the vehicle with her parents, but she stopped.

“What’s wrong, Williams?” Miss Kai asked.

“Where’s Esther?”

“No idea.” Ralph looked around, then Yada added, “Probably at the orphanage.”

Williams asked Makizal to take her there.

Miss Kai stopped Williams’ hand. “Darling, wouldn’t it be better if you rested?”

“No. I have to see her. I’ll be at the clinic resting there. You could come see me since I suppose I won’t be able to leave for a little while.”

“But,” Miss Kai began.

“Darling, please let her see Esther,” Ralph said, watching Esther’s parents approach them as Williams hurried toward a private vehicle with Makizal.

On the way, Makizal didn’t speak. He observed Williams’ reclining figure, her gaze fixed on the window. He noticed her hand carefully placed on a newspaper, which she caressed without looking at it.

“We’ve arrived,” he said briefly.

“Thank you,” she replied, stepping out before he had time to open the door.

She walked slowly through the corridors as evening approached. The courtyard was empty. She walked as if she knew exactly where to go, and she was not mistaken. At the end of the swing sat Esther.

“Williams,” Esther said, standing in surprise.

“Esther,” Williams replied, approaching and sitting beside the swing. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I…” Esther sat back down. “The trial is over.”

“Yes, it’s over.” Williams remained silent for a moment. “And the baby?”

“He’s fine. He wasn’t touched.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. No, you weren’t fine, it wasn’t your fault.” Esther glanced toward the vehicle. “You took Makizal back.”

“Let’s just say it’s not easy to find someone competent.”

Esther smiled.

“You should look for Jack. He must be worried.”

“Yes, I will, but not now. I want to clear my head.”

“But…” they said at the same time, making each other smile.

“Go ahead,” Williams said.

“Are you going back to the hospital?”

“Not right now. I have to follow the therapy as agreed upon by the judge, and after that, I’ll see what to do.”

“Will you be interned?”

“No. I’ll be resting, not like in a cage, but they’ll follow me. And you?”

Esther remained silent.

“I don’t want you to leave, Esther Dara,” Williams said softly. “Or do you prefer Evelyn Hazel?”

With tears in her eyes, Esther replied, “Which name do you prefer?”

“The one from the letter,” Williams whispered.

Esther fell off, crying.

“No, no, don’t do that.” Williams climbed down and pulled her into her arms. “I never blamed you. It was me who asked you to stay out of this.”

“You remember?”

“Everything. And maybe this is silly, but I suggest we get to know each other again. So much has happened.”

“Not much, you know.” Esther wiped away a tear.

“Maybe you could start by telling me how you changed your name and all those misadventures.”

“Oh yes, I did it like a rebel, you know.” She stood, and they both sat beneath the swing, trying for the first time to rediscover the women they had become after so much fighting.

In the distance, Makizal watched them before hearing a sound from his phone. A very particular message from Malaya: “You owe me an apple and a whiskey.” He smiled, then scanned the orphanage grounds, ensuring nothing would escape him.

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