120.My name is Natalie Carter, and my engagement party was supposed to be the happiest night of my life.

On Monday morning, the gavel fell for the final time.

Courtroom 4B was quiet, stripped of the sensationalist energy of the previous week. The verdict had been delivered; now, only the cold, unyielding arithmetic of the federal sentencing guidelines remained.

Eleanor Carter stood before the podium in her orange jumpsuit, her head bowed, her wrists shackled tightly to her waist. Her hair hung in limp, graying strands around her face, and her shoulders were permanently slumped under the weight of her reality.

Beside her, Chloe Carter stood in her own green detention uniform, having already entered her formal guilty plea.

Judge Holbrook adjusted his spectacles, his expression carved from gray granite.

"Eleanor Carter," the judge began, his voice deep, gravelly, and reverberating through the silent room. "In my thirty-two years on the federal bench, I have rarely encountered a case that displayed such calculated, venomous narcissism."

Eleanor flinched, but kept her eyes fixed on the wooden floor.

"You took the honorable name of General Thomas Carter—a man who shed blood for this nation—and used it as a weapon of extortion," Judge Holbrook continued. "You stole from the widows of men who never came home. You poisoned your younger daughter's moral compass, turning her into a criminal accomplice. And you publicly assaulted your elder daughter, an active-duty officer, because she possessed the integrity you so thoroughly lacked."

The judge shuffled his sentencing dockets.

"The federal guidelines recommend a sentence of two hundred and sixty to three hundred and twenty months. However, given the egregious abuse of trust and the vulnerability of your victims, this court finds no reason for leniency."

Judge Holbrook looked up, locking his gaze directly onto Eleanor.

"On Counts One through Twenty-Six, it is the judgment of this court that you, Eleanor Carter, be committed to the custody of the Federal Bureau of Prisons for a term of twenty-eight years."

A soft, choked gasp escaped Eleanor's throat. Twenty-eight years. At sixty-one years old, it was effectively a life sentence. She would never walk outside the razor-wire fences of a federal prison as a free woman again.

"Furthermore," the judge added, "you are ordered to pay four million two hundred and sixteen thousand dollars in mandatory criminal restitution, alongside a fine of five hundred thousand dollars. You will serve your time at the Federal Correctional Institution in Aliceville, Alabama."

Judge Holbrook turned his attention to Chloe.

"Chloe Carter," he said, his tone shifting from outrage to stern, sorrowful disappointment. "You were twenty-six years old. You possessed every opportunity, every advantage, and every privilege. You allowed yourself to be seduced by materialism and greed, participating actively in the theft of funds meant for dead soldiers' families."

Chloe began weeping softly, her tears dripping onto her orange jumpsuit.

"However," the judge noted, "this court acknowledges your substantial assistance to the government in the prosecution of this case, alongside your willingness to accept responsibility through your plea agreement. Therefore, on Counts One and Sixteen, you are sentenced to five years in federal prison, followed by three years of supervised release, and two thousand hours of mandatory community service with the Veterans Administration."

Chloe let out a long, shuddering sob, nodding her head repeatedly. "Thank you, Your Honor... thank you."

"Marshals," Judge Holbrook concluded, slamming his gavel down with finality. "Remand the prisoners."

The marshals stepped in.

As Eleanor was turned toward the holding cell door, she looked across the room one last time. She saw me standing beside Ethan, Ethan's strong arm wrapped securely around my shoulders, our future bright and unshakeable before us.

Eleanor opened her mouth, perhaps to curse me, perhaps to beg, but no sound came out. She was simply an old, broken criminal in an orange jumpsuit, shuffling into the darkness of a life sentence.

The heavy steel door closed behind them with a final, echoing thud.

The courtroom began to empty.

Arthur Sterling stepped up to us, extending his hand with a warm, triumphant smile. "Congratulations, Major Carter. Restitution has been formally transferred from the seized estate accounts. The Fallen Warriors fund has been fully replenished, and every penny will be distributed to the families by the end of the month."

"Thank you, Arthur," I said, shaking his hand firmly. "For everything."

General Marcus Vance walked over, placing a heavy, paternal hand on my shoulder. "Your father is watching, Natalie. And I have never seen him prouder."

I smiled, taking a deep breath of the cool, clean Virginia air as we walked out of the courthouse steps into the bright autumn sunshine.