𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞
I am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.
Francesca "Frank" Monroe. One of the most successful criminal defense attorneys in the history of Chicago. The woman everyone...
"The villany you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."
- William Shakespeare
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The morning was brisk and crisp, my breath fogging up as I stood in anticipation outside of the gates of Stateville Correctional Center. An uncontainable sense of elation welled up in my heart. My Uncle Ben was about to take his first steps into freedom after being wrongfully convicted for a grueling twenty two years. I shifted from foot to foot, eagerness causing my nerves to jitter with restless energy.
"Why is it taking them so long?" I mumbled under my breath to Sawyer. The waiting felt endless, like hours were crawling past in slow-motion.
Sawyer let out a soft laugh, brushing a comforting hand against my arm. "Give it a minute," he said, an easygoing grin stretching across his face as he also watched the massive prison doors.
Suddenly, the anticipation was cut short as the steel doors swung open, and standing there, was Uncle Ben. It was like watching a mirage as I squinted, letting reality sink in. My uncle, flanked by two lawyers, took his first breaths of freedom. An avalanche of emotions descended on me, joy for his freedom, but sadness too for all for the years he was robbed of due to a ghastly miscarriage of justice.
But my thoughts quickly turned to revenge, to making sure the person responsible for his imprisonment paid the price.
Driven by the magnitude of the moment, I rushed towards Uncle Ben and threw myself at him. The tightness of his hug, the smell of him; everything felt exactly the way I remembered it. His gentle whisper in my ear cooed, "Don't cry, my baby girl, I'm here now."
Just as I was getting lost in our reunion, one of his lawyers cleared his throat, reminding me of their presence. I quickly extracted myself from Uncle Ben's warm embrace, hastily wiping my tears away and forcing a composed façade.
Gratitude overpowered any remnants of distress in me. I offered my hand, "Thank you," I spoke to both of them, trying to convey my heartfelt appreciation through these simple words.
In response, they simply nodded. "We were just doing our job," the older one responded nonchalantly, gesturing to a waiting driver who produced a large briefcase. "Mr. Lombardi has sent this for you," he said cryptically.
My interest piqued as I took hold of the briefcase, trying to guess its contents by the weight. I dismissed the burning curiosity for later. Today was about Uncle Ben's freedom.
Returning to my uncle, who wore a mirror of my big smile, I said, "Let's go home." My arm looped around his as I led him towards the car.
As I saw Uncle Ben settling into my car's passenger seat, he seemed lost in disbelief and in awe of everything around him. He examined each and every feature of the car meticulously. He hadn't been in a car since the day he was arrested - and that had been over twenty years ago. It made me realise that, even though he was out of prison now, the feeling of true freedom was still a pretty foreign concept to him.
