Chapter 1- This Can't Be

January 20th, 1992.

She ran down the slush-covered streets of Chicago, as fast as her boots could carry her.

Thirty minutes ago she had been in Evanston, in the cozy confines of a sorority house on the campus of Northwestern University.

Now, she was running towards the home of her aunt and uncle praying that what she had heard on the news wasn't true.

However, as she turned onto a sidewalk that led to the large home where she resided with them when school wasn't in session, the police cars and news vans told her that her prayers had fallen on deaf ears.

Seeing yellow caution tape, she ran towards it but was stopped by a police officer.

"You can't go in there," said the police officer.

"My aunt and uncle live there, I just heard on the news that my Aunt Helen was attacked!"

"And you are?" asked the officer.

"Trisha Kimble, I'm her niece," said Trisha. "And why is my uncle being put in the back of a police car?!"

"Miss, there's no easy to say this," said the officer. "Mrs. Kimble was dead when we got here."

All the color drained from Trisha's face. She looked at the officer, as if to say something, before promptly turning around and vomiting in the snow.

Trisha looked around the police station searching for her uncle as a young detective approached her.

"Trisha Kimble?"

"Yeah, that's me," said Trisha.

"Detective Sully, I'd like to talk to you if that's okay."

"Where's my uncle?" asked Trisha.

"He's with two other detectives right now," said Sully. "Seems whoever murdered your aunt knew the security code to get into your house. Did you give it out to anyone?"

"No, Uncle Richard told me never to give it out," said Trisha.

"No boyfriends, maybe your parents?" asked Sully.

"I'm a pre-med student at Northwestern, I don't have time for boyfriends," said Trisha. "Oh, and by the way, my parents died when I was 11. My aunt and uncle took me in and raised me when they could've just dumped me in a foster home, so if you're trying to get me to help your buddies pin this on my uncle, do your own dirty work."

She took off and ran into a restroom, unable to catch her breath.

FLASHBACK

"Are you two really okay with me being here? I feel like I'm the third wheel," said Trisha.

Richard and Helen both laughed.

"You need to be here, Trisha. You're applying to medical schools after you take the MCAT and the results come in, so the more people you know that can write letters of recommendation for you the better," said Richard.

"Trisha, is that you?" said a voice.

She looked and saw Dr. Nichols walk over.

"Charlie! Hi!" said Trisha.

"Shouldn't you be studying?" said Dr. Nichols.

"I'm networking tonight, got my MCAT study group tomorrow though," said Trisha.

"That's what I wanted to hear, keep it up," said Dr. Nichols.

Nichols pulled Richard aside to talk about something while Helen and Trisha went to find some food.

"I should probably take the train back to campus after this is over," said Trisha.

"I'd be more comfortable if you didn't take the train when this is over because it's going to be really late," said Helen. "Just come home and stay the night, I can take you out for brunch then bring you back to campus."

"If driving me back to Evanston isn't too much trouble…"

"No, honey, it's not," said Helen.

END FLASHBACK

She looked in the mirror, not recognizing herself. Cheeks covered with mascara-tainted tears, thick dark brown hair wet from the snowfall, and a pair of big brown eyes that were red from crying stared back at her.

FLASHBACK

Trisha listened as her Uncle Richard talked to someone at Chicago Memorial Hospital via the car phone. As she did, she heard the pager Richard and Helen had given her for college beep in her purse.

"Sorry," Trisha whispered.

"Don't worry about it," Richard whispered.

His call eventually ended and he drove towards the house to drop Helen and Trisha off before heading to Chicago Memorial.

"Can I use the car phone? One of the girls at the sorority house paged me 911," said Trisha.

Richard handed Trisha the phone and she called the sorority house. One of her friends, Dana, answered.

"What's going on?" asked Trisha.

"I just saw a nasty weather report – big snowstorm coming, and no one at the house has heard anything about canceled classes yet," said Dana. "Just get your butt to the nearest train station, Natalie and I will pick you up at Noyes."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," said Trisha.

She ended the call and told Richard and Helen what had happened.

"Just pull over at a train station, I really don't care which one," said Trisha. "I don't wanna make you late for the OR, Uncle Richard."

"You won't," said Richard.

"I think we're near Howard Station," said Helen.

The car came to a stop and Trisha exited the back seat as snow began to fall.

"Good luck, Uncle Richard," said Trisha. "Bye, Aunt Helen."

She was about to go up to Howard Station when Helen took her hand in hers.

"Call me when you get back to the sorority house, please? I need to know that you got there safe," said Helen.

"Don't worry, Aunt Helen. I will," said Trisha.

She gave her aunt a peck on the cheek and went up the stairs to catch a train back to Evanston.

END FLASHBACK

Trisha exited the restroom – just in time to see her Uncle Richard being led down a hall in handcuffs.

"What the hell?!"

Her shout drew the attention of both her uncle and the two detectives on either side of him.

"Th – they thi – think I did it for the money," said Richard.

"He didn't do this! Why don't you tubs of lard do some real police work?!" Trisha yelled.

"If you don't shut up, I'll put you in handcuffs," said Detective Kelly.

February, 1993.

"I need a moment alone with my niece," said Richard.

"The end phase of the trial starts in five minutes," said Walter.

He left them alone so they could talk.

"I can't believe everything got this far," said Trisha. "How can they not find a one-armed man in the city of Chicago?"

"Don't worry about me, okay? I want to know how things are going with the medical schools you applied to," said Richard.

"I have almost all of my interviews done, so hopefully I'll be getting some good news – or bad news," said Trisha.

"It'll be good news – you're smart, smarter than me," said Richard.

"Smarter than you? Nah!" said Trisha.

They shared a hug as Walter walked over.

"It's time," said Walter.

"Richard… He's trying to kill me…"

The 911 tape made Trisha sick to her stomach, and angry – she had lost her parents nearly a decade ago, but that hadn't been due to malice.

This was, and all they seemed to have for a motive against her uncle was a stupid life insurance policy. With that logic, Trisha was surprised she hadn't been arrested as well due to the policy also having her name on it – it had initially only had her name on it, but Helen and Richard had both agreed to have Richard put his name on it in order for Trisha to get a larger athletic scholarship due to being on the swimming team at Northwestern University.

Trisha watched as the judge spoke at the end of the final day of the trial.

"Mr. Kimble, having considered all the facts in this case and that the offense was brutal, indicative of unwarranted cruelty, it's the judgment of this court that you be remanded to Illinois State Penitentiary in Menard where you will await execution by lethal injection, the date to be set forth by the attorney general of this state," said the judge.

An audible gasp could be heard throughout the courtroom from a few of Richard's friends from Chicago Memorial. Trisha, in an effort to keep herself from showing the people in the courtroom any emotions, focused so hard on remaining composed that she accidently bit down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood.

"May God have mercy on your soul," said the judge.

Trisha swallowed the blood in her mouth as the judge swung the gavel down.