Chapter 8

We spent a few rough hours until eleven, when the trial was supposed to start. My dad and the rest of the family had to be there as witnesses, so I went with them to the court. The whole thing was a messed-up joke, and I felt like I was living through torture.

They were deciding if my curiosity and crazy inventions would lead to the death of two people: one a happy baby, full of innocence, and the other... well, brutally murdered, with every horrible detail making it unforgettable.

Justine was a good person, too, with qualities that promised her a happy life. Now it was all going to be wiped out in a shameful grave, and I was the reason!

A million times over, I would have confessed to the crime they were blaming on Justine, but I wasn’t even there when it happened, and saying so would have sounded like I was totally losing it, and wouldn’t have saved her because of me. Justine looked calm when she showed up.

She was wearing black, and her face, which was always pretty, looked incredibly beautiful because of how serious she was feeling. Still, she seemed sure of her innocence and didn’t shake.

Even though thousands of people were staring and hating on her, all the kindness her looks might have gotten her was gone from their minds because they imagined how terrible she was. She was quiet, but it was clear she was holding it together.

They’d used her confusion as proof she was guilty before, so she was trying to look brave. When she walked into the courtroom, she looked around and quickly found us.

A tear seemed to blur her eye when she saw us, but she shook it off fast, and a look of sad affection showed how innocent she really was.

The trial kicked off, and after the prosecutor laid out the charges, they called a bunch of witnesses. A bunch of weird stuff piled up against her, which would have floored anyone who didn't have the proof of her innocence that I did.

She’d been out all night on the night the murder happened, and a market woman spotted her near morning, not too far from where the murdered child’s body was later found. The woman asked her what she was doing there, but she looked totally spaced out and gave a confused, hard-to-understand answer.

She got back home around eight o’clock, and when someone asked where she’d been, she said she’d been looking for the child and seriously asked if anyone had heard anything about him. When they showed her the body, she totally lost it and stayed in bed for days.

Then they brought out the picture the servant had found in her pocket. When Elizabeth, in a shaky voice, proved it was the same one she’s put around the child’s neck just an hour before he went missing, a wave of shock and anger went through the courtroom. Justine was called to defend herself.

As the trial went on, her face changed. You could see the surprise, the horror, and the misery all over it. Sometimes she fought back tears, but when they asked her to plead, she pulled herself together and spoke, her voice clear but wavering. "Honestly, God knows I’m innocent," she said.

"I’m not saying my words should clear me, though. I’m resting my innocence on a straightforward explanation of the facts they’ve brought up. And I’m hoping my reputation will make my judges see things in my favor when anything seems questionable or suspicious."

"Elizabeth let me go to my aunt’s place at Chêne," she said. "It’s a village, like, a league from Geneva. It was the night of the murder. She went on, "I got back around nine o’clock and this guy stopped me. He asked if I’d seen the kid who was missing."

"I totally freaked out and spent hours looking for him. But the gates to Geneva were closed, so I had to stay in this barn near a cottage. I didn’t want to wake up the people there - they knew me. "I basically stayed up all night watching," she continued.

"I think I dozed off for a bit, but then I heard some noises and woke up. It was almost dawn, so I left the barn to look for my brother again. I might have gone near where he was, but I honestly don’t remember."

"It’s not surprising I was all over the place when the market-woman asked me questions," she said. "I’d been up all night, and we still didn’t know what happened to poor William. "About the picture... I can’t really say anything," she added.

"I know this one thing looks really bad for me," she said, her voice shaky. "But I can’t explain it. I’m just clueless. And when I say I don’t know, it’s the truth. I’ve been trying to figure out how it could’ve even ended up in my pocket. "But I can’t even guess," she said.

"I don’t think I have any enemies. Nobody would be that messed up to just destroy me. "Did the murderer put it there?" she wondered aloud. "I don’t know when he would’ve even had the chance. And if he did, why would he steal the jewel and then give it back so quickly?"

"I’m putting my case in the hands of the judges, but honestly, I don't see a way out. I'm asking if I can have a few people speak about my character. If what they say doesn’t outweigh the idea that I’m guilty, then I guess I’ll be condemned - even though I’d swear on everything that I’m innocent."

Several people who’d known her for years were called, and they said good things about her. But they were scared and filled with hate for what they thought she’d done, so they didn’t really want to speak up. Elizabeth saw even this last hope - her good nature and clean record - about to fail her.

Even though she was super nervous, she asked the court if she could say something.

"I’m the cousin of the kid who was murdered," she said. "Or, well, his sister. I was raised by his parents and lived with them even before he was born. It’s probably kinda weird for me to speak up now, but seeing someone about to go down because of fake friends? I gotta say what I know about her."

I know the accused really well. I lived with her - once for five years, another time for almost two. The whole time, she seemed like the sweetest, kindest person ever. She took care of my aunt, Madame Frankenstein, when she was sick, with so much love.

Then she helped her own mom through a long illness, and everyone was amazed by how good she was. After that, she lived with my uncle’s family, and everyone loved her. She was super close to the kid who died, and treated him like her own child.

"Honestly, even with all the stuff against her, I believe she’s innocent. She didn't have a reason to do anything like that. And about that necklace they’re using as proof? If she’d really wanted it, I would've given it to her myself - I value her that much."

Everyone murmured their approval after Elizabeth's straightforward and powerful plea, but it was stoked by her generous involvement, not really for poor Justine. People were turning their anger back on her, saying she was totally ungrateful.

Justine herself was crying as Elizabeth spoke, but she didn't say anything. I was seriously stressed and heartbroken during the whole trial. I knew Justine was innocent; I really did.

Could the demon who (I didn’t doubt for a second) murdered my brother, just for kicks, have betrayed an innocent person to death and shame? I couldn’t handle the horror of it all. When I realized the crowd and the judges had already condemned my poor Justine, I bolted out of the courtroom in agony.

Her suffering didn't even compare to mine; she had her innocence to hold onto, but guilt was tearing at my chest and wouldn’t let go. I had a seriously rough night. In the morning, I went back to the court. My lips and throat were dry. I didn't dare ask the question, but they knew why I was there.

The ballots were in - all black. Justine was condemned. I can't even describe what I felt then. I’d felt horror before, and I'd tried to put it into words, but words just can’t capture the soul-crushing despair I felt. The guy I talked to said Justine had already confessed.

"That evidence wasn’t really needed in such an obvious case," he said, "but I'm glad they got it, and honestly, none of the judges like condemning someone based on circumstantial evidence, no matter how convincing."

This was seriously weird and unexpected - what was going on? Was I seeing things? And was I totally losing it, like everyone would think if I told them what I suspected? I rushed home, and Elizabeth was all, So, what happened? My cousin, I said, it’s settled, like you probably figured.

All the judges were like, they’d rather let ten innocent people suffer than let one guilty person go free. But she confessed. That was a huge hit to poor Elizabeth, who was totally sure Justine was innocent. "Seriously?" she said. "How can I ever trust anyone again?

"Justine, who I loved and thought of like a sister, how could she fake it? Her eyes always seemed so gentle and honest, but she actually did it." Not long after, we heard the poor person who died wanted to see my cousin.

My dad wanted her to stay away, but said it was up to her to decide based on her feelings. "Yeah," said Elizabeth, "I’m going, even though she’s guilty. And you, Victor, you’re coming with me - I’m not going alone. The thought of visiting her was rough, but I couldn’t say no.

We walked into the gloomy prison and saw Justine sitting on some straw at the far end; her hands were chained, and her head was resting on her knees. She looked up when we came in, and when we were alone with her, she threw herself at Elizabeth’s feet, crying really hard.

My cousin started crying too. "Oh, Justine!" she said. "Why’d you take away my last bit of hope? I believed you were innocent, and even though I was super bummed already, I’d never felt this awful. "Do you think I’m that bad too? Do you also join my enemies to crush me, to call me a murderer?"

Her voice was choked with sobs.

"Get up, sweetie," said Elizabeth. "Why are you kneeling if you’re innocent? I’m not against you. I thought you were clear, even with all the evidence, until I heard you said you were guilty yourself. That report’s a lie, right?"

Trust me, Justine, nothing can make me doubt you, not for a second, especially after your confession. "I confessed, but it was a lie. I confessed hoping for forgiveness, but that lie now weighs heavier on my heart than anything else. God forgive me!

Ever since they condemned me, my priest has been all over me, threatening and scaring me until I almost started to think I was the monster he said I was. He threatened to kick me out of the church and send me straight to hell if I didn’t confess.

"Dear lady, I had no one to stand up for me; everyone saw me as a lost cause, destined for shame and ruin. What else could I do? I made a bad choice and lied; and now I’m truly miserable."

She stopped, crying, and then went on, "I was terrified that you would think Justine - the Justine your amazing aunt loved so much and that you loved - was capable of something only the devil could do. Dear William! My sweet, precious child!"

I’ll see you again in heaven, where we’ll all be happy; and that makes me feel better, even though I’m facing shame and death. "Oh, Justine! Forgive me for doubting you for even a second. Why did you confess? But don’t be sad, sweetie. Don’t be scared.

"I’ll tell everyone you’re innocent, I’ll prove it. I’ll make even the hardest hearts soften with my tears and prayers. You’re not going to die! You, my friend, my companion, my sister, can't die on the scaffold! No way! I couldn’t live with that happening."

Justine shook her head, looking really bummed. I’m not scared to die, she said. That part’s over. God’s giving me strength, helping me get through this. I’m leaving a pretty rough world, and if you remember me and think of me as someone who was treated unfairly, then I’m okay with what’s coming.

"Please, learn from me, dear lady - just trust in what’s meant to be!" During that whole thing, I ducked into a corner of the prison room so I could hide how messed up I was feeling. Despair? Seriously?

"The poor girl, who was gonna cross over to the other side tomorrow, wasn't feeling the same deep pain I was. I bit down, grinding my teeth, letting out a groan that came from the pit of my stomach. Justine looked over. When she saw me, she came closer and said, "You’re so sweet to visit me, sir.

Do you think I’m guilty?" I couldn't even answer. "No, Justine," Elizabeth said. "He’s even more sure of your innocence than I was. Even when they said you confessed, he didn’t believe it." "I’ve got so much to thank him for.

"In these last moments, I’m so grateful for anyone who’s thinking of me with kindness. It’s amazing how much it helps, you know? It takes away half the bad stuff, and I feel like I could actually die in peace now that you and your cousin know I’m innocent."

Thus, the poor thing tried to comfort everyone, including herself. She really did find some peace, though. But me? I, the actual killer, felt this gnawing feeling inside, a never-ending dread that offered zero hope or comfort. Elizabeth cried too, feeling super down.

But her sadness was the kind of innocent misery that's like a cloud passing over the moon - it hides the light for a bit, but can’t actually dim it. Anguish and despair had totally sunk into my heart; I carried a personal hell that nothing could put out.

We stayed with Justine for hours, and it took everything Elizabeth had to leave. "I wish I could die with you," she blurted out, "I can’t live in this awful world. Justine tried to act cheerful, even though she was struggling to hold back her tears.

She hugged Elizabeth and said, her voice choked with emotion, "Goodbye, sweet girl, my dearest Elizabeth, my only friend. May heaven bless and protect you; may this be the last bad thing that ever happens to you! Live, be happy, and make others happy too. The next day, Justine died.

Elizabeth’s heartbroken words couldn’t shake the judges from their belief that the innocent woman was guilty. My passionate pleas were just ignored. And when I got their cold responses and heard these guys’ harsh, emotionless logic, my plan to confess just vanished.

I could’ve claimed I was crazy, but I couldn’t stop them from sentencing my victim. She died on the scaffold, branded a murderer!

I turned away from the pain in my own heart to think about Elizabeth's deep, silent grief. This was all my fault! My dad's suffering, the emptiness of our once-happy home - it was all because of my messed-up hands. You're all crying, right? But this isn't the end of your tears!

You'll be wailing again, and your cries will echo over and over.

Frankenstein, your son, your family, your best friend from way back - the one who’s willing to give everything for you, who only feels good when he sees you happy, who wants to bless your lives and spend his whole life serving you - he’s asking you to cry, to shed a ton of tears.

He'd be thrilled if this awful fate was finally satisfied and the destruction stopped before peace came to your pain. That's what my soul was screaming, as I watched those I loved grieve over William and Justine’s graves - the first unlucky people to suffer because of my crazy experiments.