Chapter 22: The Courthouse Steps

Five weeks later, I walked down the courthouse steps without a deputy beside me.

There was a paper in my hand with a gold seal on it.

*The conviction of Leona Barlow Pennington is vacated, and the charge is dismissed with prejudice.*

The judge had read it aloud in a full courtroom, and then she had looked at me over her glasses and said, "The court regrets this."

I had waited three years and five weeks for those words.

They sounded smaller than I'd thought.

The reporter from the prison gate stood at the bottom of the steps with her microphone and her camera.

"Mrs. Pennington, how does it feel?"

"I'll tell you when I've had lunch," I said, and she laughed.

Roz stood next to her with her glasses on her cord, holding a paper sack.

"Pastrami," she said. "You haven't eaten since seven."

"You counted."

"I count everything. It's a prison habit."

Clyde stood at the foot of the steps, a little apart.

His cheek had healed, and he had a clean shirt on.

He still did not walk up to me until I held out a hand.

Then he came, and took it, and the reporter's camera caught everything.

"He lost the election," Roz told me in a loud whisper. "Dropped out, anyway. His billboards came down on a Tuesday."

"I heard."

"Orchard Holdings Trust got voided at ten this morning. The house is yours again. Cordell Holdings is frozen, and the bank is counting."

"And Milo?"

"Same judge, same hour. Temporary custody to you, and Brice gets supervised Saturdays." Roz grinned. "On the green rug."

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