Chapter 14 - Sentences Were Smaller Than My Anger
Dad’s plea came first.
He received:
Short county confinement.
Community supervision.
Mandatory parenting/child-safety education.
No unsupervised contact with Mia.
Community service.
Fine.
Mom’s sentence was more severe because she planned, wrote note, lied about supervision, and refused responsibility.
She received several months of confinement followed by years of community supervision under conditions including no unsupervised contact with minors outside approved circumstances, counseling, and compliance with family-court orders.
Not ten years.
Not life.
No fantasy.
She was a first-time offender.
Mia had not been physically injured.
The intended duration and deception made it serious.
But courts sentence evidence, not my anger.
I struggled.
Andrew did too.
“She could have died.”
“I know.”
“Fire.”
“I know.”
“Break-in.”
“I know.”
“She could have walked outside.”
“I know.”
Our therapist said:
“You are sentencing possibilities. Court sentences conduct.”
I hated that sentence.
Then understood.
May you like
Mom’s conviction did not need to equal every nightmare I imagined.
It simply needed to exist.
