Prologue
DA’s daughter declared legally insane; will join the Legendary Three at Hawthorne Asylum.
By Samantha Malley, The Weekly Enquirer.
Gambrielle Evans, the stepdaughter of Charlotte District Attorney, Joseph Evans, was declared by a judge to be mentally unstable Thursday morning. The nineteen-year-old was taken into custody shortly after ten a.m. and hauled away in a police cruiser while a crowd of fifty or so looked on from the courthouse. This news comes exactly one day after a grand jury dismissed murder charges against the district attorney, in the death of his stepdaughter, Elizabeth Evans, who was found in bed, unresponsive, at the family’s Charlotte estate six months earlier.
“Regardless of the fact if Gambrielle was telling the truth about what she saw that night, or if it was something her mind conjured up to deal with the traumatic loss, we might never know what really happened. What we do know is the statement she provided to the prosecution does not match up with the evidence.” Sheriff Thompson said at a news briefing. When asked by a reporter to elaborate upon the last part of his statement, Sheriff Thompson didn’t hold back, “The evidence doesn’t lie. People do.”
Ms. Evans initially claimed that she was hiding in her sister’s closet during the murder, but later retracted her statement when her mother told prosecutors that they were together that day visiting a close friend. Sources say the close friend even validated the claim, which didn’t aid the prosecution when the time came to get an indictment.
Joseph Evans’ attorney, Thomas Newman, issued this statement today:
Attorney Joseph Evans is an upstanding, valuable member of our community here in Charlotte. He has gone above and beyond during his twenty years of public service, and the accusations that were brought against him in no way reflect who he is, or the work he has performed for the community. He is eager to get back to work and return to some normalcy. He would like to thank everyone for their support during this trying time and asks that you respect his family’s privacy as they try and move forward in the next stages of healing.
Though it hasn’t been confirmed by Charlotte officials, sources closely connected with the case say Ms. Evans will be admitted to Hawthorne Asylum in the coming days. The mental hospital is well known for housing notorious high-profile patients, such as the Legendary Three, and has often been criticized for its unorthodox treatment methods.
Comments (2,513)
MattAtYou
Damn. O_O Judge Wexler threw the book at her. Ruthless.
Pumpkin_bliss
Nothing to see here. Just another rich girl screaming for attention.
XJordanSkiesX
Housed with The Legendary Three? You act like that’s a real punishment. US WOMEN KNOW BETTER! ROTFLMAO.
Marie7210
I volunteer to be locked up with Laces!
Gemma_Light12
Laces is so fuckin hot!
Marie7210
Yes he is! I would sleep with all three. IDGAF.
DarwinB89
Strange what women find attractive these days…
KellyDCloveX
Do they provide condoms in the nuthouse? Asking for a friend…
Marie7210
THIS.
One
Gambrielle
I always thought the first time I stripped would be for a man. Nothing big. A little decoration here and there, a pair of sexy underwear, and Usher’s sweet voice to drive it home.
“Jeans. Shirt. Flats. Everything has to go.” Nurse Kline said, sounding unmoved as she peeked over her tablet. Shell-shocked, I was still standing in the same corner of the small room—shoulders slumped, bug-eyed, mouth hinged open. Has it really come to this? “Did you hear me, Evans?”
Her mouth, I could see it moving—the angry expression spreading across her pores, but I still couldn’t make sense of it all.
She wants you to strip.
Yes.
Take everything off.
What for?
On any other day, I would’ve been able to connect the dots.
When I didn’t immediately obey her command, Nurse Kline tucked the tablet under her arm and cocked her head to the side. Examining me from head-to-toe, she said, “You are Gambrielle Evans, correct?”
I didn’t answer.
The tablet was back in her hand so fast, and she was scrolling down to the bottom, “You know what, this would go a lot smoother if you would at least acknowledge my questions.” She took a quick glance at me. “You are Gambrielle Evans correct? You were ordered here by Judge Wexler until the doctors on staff deem you are no longer a threat to society.”
All I could do was nod. Yep.
Her eyes were back on her tablet as she mouthed, ohhh-kay. Pointing at an empty plastic tote near the door, she said, “Put your clothes and shoes in there.”
Excuse me???
My stepfather, Joe, was probably cracking jokes at that very moment, proudly reminiscing about my takedown with all of his lawyer buddies. The image of him toasting and taking a swig of his whiskey with the rich bastards that had aided in my inevitable downfall was almost too much to fathom—“Evans?”
—you don’t belong here.
“EVANS?”
Pursing my lips, I tore my eyes away from the tablet and looked straight into Nurse Kline’s watchful gaze. I knew deep down that my current dilemma wasn’t her fault, but that didn’t stop the thoughts running through my head. She was admitting me to Hell and therefore was a part of the problem. “He did it.” I finally said with conviction. Whether or not she knew what I was referring to, I didn’t know or care. I needed to speak my peace on the matter.
Ignoring me, she jerked her chin toward the tote again. “Put all of your stuff in there.”
With a heavy sigh, I bent over and started to remove one of my flats, but stilled when I saw Nurse Kline slapping on a pair of white latex gloves. Oh no… my brows drew in. I could hear my heart pounding through my ears, feel my hands trembling in midair. Only when she proceeded to grab the KY jelly did I finally speak up. “Wait, wait-wait—what are you doing? Wh-h-hat do you need that for?” I already knew, but was holding on to hope that maybe I would be the exception.
“It’s protocol. No one enters Hawthorne Asylum without passing inspection.” Like toothpaste, she poured a generous amount of the clear liquid on two bony fingers and smirked at me. “It’ll be quick.”
I didn’t think.
I didn’t speak.
I just acted.
One second I was standing in front of Nurse Kline contemplating the integrity of my nether region—and the next I was a football star, faking to the left and right, snaking around her small frame and darting for the wooden door. “Calm down, Evans! Relax!”
But it was too late. I’d already flung the door open and was racing down the sterile, white hallway, arms pumping back and forth, my years of running track being put to the ultimate test.
The intercom sounded right as I raced past what appeared to be the nurse’s station. “Code red, Floor B.” Three orderlies scrambled to get out of their leather chairs as their leader shouted off rapid-fire instructions in his radio, “Get a tranq!”
Everything was glaringly white: the floor, walls, ceiling, desks… The smell of ammonia slammed into my lungs, briefly catching me off guard, but I forged ahead like a wild animal, zig-zagging through the long hallway.