Chapter 20 - The Trial Before the Trial
Leon Price’s attorneys attacked everything.
Jordan’s video.
Isaiah’s recordings.
Sloan’s credibility.
Harlan’s cooperation.
The engineering conclusions.
They argued Price gave broad business instructions and subordinates committed unauthorized crimes.
Legally, it was not absurd.
That made it frightening.
Price had rarely written direct orders.
He understood distance.
He created urgency, incentives, and pressure.
Others translated them into action.
Malcolm called it cowardice.
Renee called it corporate insulation.
The prosecutor called it conspiracy.
Before trial, Malcolm was asked to testify before the grand jury about property history.
Jordan would likely not testify unless necessary.
Malcolm was relieved.
One evening Jordan asked, “What if Price gets away with it?”
Malcolm thought carefully.
“Some consequences already happened.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.”
“What if a jury says he didn’t do it?”
“Then we live with the verdict.”
Jordan looked angry.
“That’s dumb.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t think he’s guilty?”
“I think he created conditions where people believed damaging our land would make him happy.”
“That sounds guilty.”
“It sounds guilty to me.”
“Then why can’t you say it?”
“Because saying what I believe and proving what law requires are different.”
Jordan groaned.
“You sound like Renee.”
“That is the worst thing anyone has ever said to me.”
From the kitchen Renee shouted, “I heard that.”
They laughed.
She had become more than counsel by then.
Not family.
But close enough to insult Malcolm’s coffee.
The prosecution eventually narrowed its theory.
They would not claim Price intended to bury the house.
They would claim he knowingly encouraged unlawful property damage while aware that serious physical danger could result, then obstructed investigators.
That felt more truthful.
Malcolm did not need the story exaggerated.
The real version was bad enough.
Meanwhile, life kept moving.
Jordan turned thirteen.
His birthday cake was shaped like a drone.
Nia joined a school art club.
Tasha accepted a counseling position at a middle school.
Malcolm returned to engineering work part-time as a consultant specializing in slope-risk and residential infrastructure.
The irony was not lost on him.
“You hated geotechnical meetings before,” Tasha said.
“I still do.”
“You talk about drainage at dinner.”
“I’m fascinating.”
“You are a public-health threat.”
The settlement finalized.
After attorneys, debts, taxes, and structured trusts, the family did not receive a cartoonish pile of twelve million dollars.
But they had security.
Enough to purchase a new home outright.
Enough for the children.
Enough to breathe.
Malcolm wanted a large house at first.
Tasha did not.
“We already had a house we were trying to prove something with.”
“What were we proving?”
“That we could carry your father’s legacy.”
Malcolm looked at listings.
Then closed the expensive ones.
They chose a comfortable brick home near a park.
Flat lot.
Wide backyard.
Storm shelter.
Nia approved.
Celeste came to dinner the first week.
It was awkward.
Then less awkward.
She brought grapes.
Everyone stared.
“What?” she asked.
Tasha laughed.
“Nothing.”
Celeste looked suspicious.
Jordan whispered, “Family trauma joke.”
Malcolm almost choked on water.
Nia had no idea why everyone was laughing, so she laughed too.
Healing sometimes looked ridiculous.
After dinner, Celeste gave Malcolm a small box.
Inside was Isaiah’s old pocket watch.
“I found it during storage cleanup.”
Malcolm held it.
The back was scratched.
His father had carried it every day.
“I thought this was lost.”
“So did I.”
Malcolm wound it.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Simple.
Steady.
Celeste said, “He would be proud.”
Malcolm looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
She seemed surprised.
“I used to need to know.”
He slipped the watch into his pocket.
“Now I think I just need to live.”
Celeste smiled.
“That sounds healthier.”
“Don’t spread it around.”
The following morning, Renee called.
Price’s trial date was set.
Six weeks.
Then she added, “There may be a plea offer.”
Malcolm’s expression changed.
“For what?”
“Obstruction and reckless endangerment. Several years possible. Financial penalties. No conspiracy trial.”
Jordan overheard.
“That’s it?”
Malcolm almost agreed.
Then he remembered his own lesson.
“Let’s hear everything first.”
Tasha smiled at him.
Slowly.
He was becoming a man who listened before deciding.
The change felt almost invisible.
But perhaps that was how families survived things that could not be undone.
May you like
![92 The Girl They Called Broke Was a Billionaire’s Daughter—But Her Father’s Arrival Exposed a Secret Powerful People Had Buried for Years]](https://cdn.treeiq.biz/site_590/2026/11/clone-0-0915d882-53d7-4d17-b43a-a010ca1a1068.webp)
Not through one grand act.
Through hundreds of smaller corrections.
