It took all of 15 minutes for the jury to declare Stephanie Lauter guilty for the murders of Maxwell Jagerman, Richard Lipschitz, Ruth Fleming, and Peter Spankoffski. The sentence rung out through the courtroom, but Steph's demeanor made no change.
She knew she should be feeling something. Hell, she'd be spending the rest of her life in a prison cell. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to care. After all, she had killed Pete. Max, too, although he wasn't the first thing on her mind.
Stephanie Lauter was going to prison. The person who shot Peter Spankoffski point-blank in the head was going to prison.
Good. She thought. Fucking good.
The trial itself hadn't been as bad as she'd expected. She sat silently (voluntarily, for once in her life) as witnesses shared testimonies and lawyers performed carefully rehearsed statements.
The worst part was Pete's brother.
He was one of the most important witnesses for the prosecution, and Steph could feel his glare boring into her skull throughout the trial. It was his brother's testimony that truly made her realize how irrefutably guilty she looked.
The first time they planned to meet outside of school, Pete had come home bloodied and bruised and insisting that he just fell down the stairs. Then a couple days later, he came home in blood-soaked clothing, refusing to tell his brother anything. Then finally, Pete was killed, and Steph's fingerprints were on the trigger.
She knew how guilty she looked. She knew how guilty she was.
And somehow, Ted fucking Spankoffski -- the biggest sleazeball in Hatchetfield, a grade-A asshole, the bastard everyone knows and hates -- made her hate herself more than she ever thought she could.
She barely registered the security officers taking her arms and leading her out of the courtroom. She was brought outside, where dozens of reporters and news stations were waiting for her.
Hatchetfield is a small town. Steph hadn't realized how small it was until she recognized every face looking up at her with horror and disgust.
A furious sob rang out over the crushing wave of verbal abuse.
Steph looked over her shoulder, to see Ted Spankoffski being held back by several court security guards. He thrashed wildly in their grip, snarling at Steph.
She was ushered into a police car, as more officers attended to Ted.
As the car pulled away from the courthouse, Ted Spankoffski suddenly looked so small. His resolve crumbled as he fell to his knees, weeping over his murdered brother.
The person who killed Peter Spankoffski was spending the rest of her life in prison.
Good. Thought Steph. Fucking good.
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