Complete the short story/flash fiction, that has the following opening:
The courtroom had been empty for almost half an hour before Francis Daughtry moved. He was sitting on the bench, behind the where the prosecutor had been sitting, staring at the picture he held in his hands. The picture, creased and wrinkled, was the last picture of his wife and daughter that he had taken. They had just come out of the ice cream shop and both of them had smears of ice cream on their noses and beautiful white smiles on their faces. While her daughter was just fifteen, she was as tall as her mother so their stood there, arms around each other and patiently waited while he took their picture.
And now he was here, in an empty courtroom, where less than an hour ago the man, no, the spoiled brat who had killed his family was declared “not guilty”. Not guilty because his lawyer was better than the prosecuter. Not guilty because of the minor issues they had with the police. Not guilty because no one, other than his wife and daughter, actually saw him behind the wheel of the vehicle when it ran the red light. Not guilty because enough money can buy a witness that can state he was somewhere else at the time. It didn’t matter that his prints were the only set on the steering wheel of the BMW. It didn’t matter that he had multiple contusions eerily reminiscent of an airbag in the face.
The truth didn’t matter.
He hadn’t realized that he had spoken aloud until a soft voice from behind him whispered into his ear. “Oh, but the truth does matter, Francis. The truth does matter.”
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