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The other savior was the air diffuser. In the beginning, it felt like forever to get her to snap out of it. She would scream and howl as if she was burning, and it fucking killed me. When we tried out the diffuser, the first nightmare after that, I got her to take deep breaths. This would allow her to smell the lavender from the diffuser and not the smoke stuck in her subconscious mind.
Overall, the nightmares became fewer and farther between. Until now. The trial. Today, Connor Miller takes the stand. I wish beyond anything I could make it all go away. Jim wouldn’t let her near the case anymore. His main priority was shielding his daughter from anymore distress caused by the Miller family. The trial was postponed. Seems Hannah has a friend in the judicial system on our side, and got the trial delayed until I was released from the hospital and well enough for the fight of my life. And when that day finally came, Matthews and Associates went full force. It didn’t take much before Benjamin Miller was arrested. Everything happened fast and intense. Not only were we ready to take down Miller Industries for what they did, we were going to take down his son for what he did to Hannah.
Putting Hannah’s case together was and will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done…next to watching her lay in the hospital bed. Connor was a sick fuck. He gave his statement that day to the police, a full confession of his intentions, the kidnapping of Hannah, the murder of Clara Hill. But once his father got wind, he lawyered him up and they fought tooth and nail, claiming his confession was under duress and ultimately getting it thrown out.
Four days of trial against Miller Industries, and we gave it all we got. But it wasn’t us who truly won that case. It was the testimonies of the victims who lived that day. Clara Hill may have been the only one strong enough to stand up to Miller Industries in the beginning, but her death gave those too scared to come forward the strength to tell their stories.
“Can you please state your name for the record.”
“Phillip Hensley, sir.” A middle-aged man, wearing a worn suit and boots sits up straighter on the stand.
“And Mr. Hensley, can you please state for the record your line of work with Miller Industries?”
There’s an excruciating amount of pain that radiates from his tired eyes at the mention of Miller Industries. “I was hired as the construction manager. Benjamin Miller had approached me at my home to work on the upcoming job site.”
“And what did he offer you?”
Phillip takes a gander at the jury, then back to me. “He offered to double my salary. I’d been at the paper mill for over thirty years. But my wife…Virginia…she had cancer. We were struggling to pay for treatments. She was a fighter, but without more money, we were going to have to stop her chemo.”
I take a breath, allowing him the same opportunity. “Was there anything else?”
He nods. “Yes. He offered us treatment. He said he knew doctors who could help my Virginia. If I left the mill and took the job, he would get us the income we needed. Virginia would get better.” His voice cracks, right along with my heart knowing how this story ends.
“What happened when you took the job?” He adjusts himself in his seat, feeling the discomfort as Benjamin Miller sits at the defense table staring him down. “It’s okay. Go on…”
“Production started. People got right to work. Men were distributed to specific jobs, some of which never had experience in job labor.” He takes a moment. “I did what I was hired to do: watch over the construction, and make sure men were working fast and diligently. Mr. Miller had offered me a bonus if the job was completed before the expected timeframe.”
“And what was that?” I ask.
“Six months. Which all seemed impossible. This building he was fixin’ to build, it was massive, and he had nowhere near the amount of manpower needed to complete it in such a time.”
I walk around my table, toward the jury. “And did you ever express your concerns about this to Mr. Miller?”
His expression morphs into anguish. “No. I was too worried about losing my job. You see, Mr. Miller was a powerful man. He didn’t take lightly to anyone questioning him. I tried to speak up in the beginning simply about the safety of some of the men in the pit. That night, I received a call that our payment had not been received for insurance. I’d gotten the hint right away. I was to do my job.” He pauses, torment almost taking his breath. “I just kept thinking of my Virginia. I thought if I just kept my business to myself, the building would be up in no time and my wife would be better. We’d take the extra money and go on a trip. We’d never been outside Crete.”
