Chapter 13 - The Verdict
The jury deliberated two days.
Not fifteen minutes.
I was grateful.
This was not entertainment.
They considered.
Then verdicts.
Aggravated assault for broken arm:
Guilty.
Strangulation related felony:
Guilty.
Child endangerment:
Guilty.
Witness intimidation:
Guilty.
Trust fraud conspiracy and wire fraud counts:
Guilty on major counts.
One older assault count:
Not guilty.
Insufficient corroboration.
Another fraud count:
Not guilty because prosecution could not prove Thomas personally caused that specific transfer.
I liked that.
Not because I wanted him free.
Because truth can survive precision.
Then Thomas showed no reaction.
Mom cried.
I stared at table.
Everyone expected relief.
I felt exhausted.
Then sentencing months later.
Victim impact.
I wrote:
Thomas spent years calling violence discipline. My mother spent years calling silence protection. I do not want the court to use either word incorrectly.
Then:
I am not asking for punishment because he was cruel every day. He wasn’t. I am asking you to sentence proven acts.
Then:
He broke my arm because I would not give him a letter addressed to me. He strangled me until I lost consciousness. He threatened me before a CPS visit. He stole money my father left for my future and told me I owned nothing.
I did not ask maximum.
Judge had guidelines.
Thomas’s sentence:
Fourteen years total incarceration across violent and financial convictions, with some concurrent structure, followed by supervision.
Not life.
He would leave prison someday.
That frightened me.
Therapist said:
“Fourteen years is not tomorrow.”
No.
Then restitution to trust.
$119,400 criminal fraud amount plus related interest and shared liability, reduced by recovered assets.
Thomas had little.
His business sold equipment.
Sportsbook account empty.
Truck.
Savings.
Some recovery.
Sterling restoration.
Mark and Kevin restitution.
Trust would not get every dollar directly from him immediately.
Then Mom sentencing.
Her cooperation mattered.
Her own conduct mattered.
Judge said:
“You were not a child in this home.”
Mom cried.
Then:
“Fear can explain decisions. It does not transfer your duty to protect your daughter.”
She received eighteen months custody followed by three years supervised release, plus restitution obligations and mandatory counseling.
Some expected probation.
Not.
She had concealed severe abuse, obstructed CPS, participated in fraud.
Then before custody, she asked to see me.
I said yes.
Why?
I wanted my question answered.
Supervised room.
Mom looked older.
No makeup.
“Emma.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
She cried immediately.
I waited.
“No speeches.”
She stopped.
Then:
“At first because I loved him.”
Okay.
“Then because I was afraid.”
“Of him?”
“Yes.”
“Of getting caught?”
“Yes.”
“Of money?”
“Yes.”
“Of being alone?”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Did you choose him over me?”
She whispered:
“Sometimes.”
There.
Not:
Never.
Not:
I was protecting you.
Sometimes.
I started crying.
“So you knew.”
“Yes.”
“Did you love me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I don’t understand.”
Mom looked at me.
“I think I loved you and still failed you.”
That was the first answer that did not ask me to fix contradiction.
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
I stood.
“I’m not ready to forgive you.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know what I feel.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
I left.
Outside Julia waited.
I thought I would collapse.
Instead I asked:
“Can we get fries?”
She laughed.
May you like
“Yes.”
That night, for the first time, I believed court could be over without my feelings being over.
