Days later, my mother appeared after posting bail.
She stood outside carrying a suitcase.
Wearing dark sunglasses.
Still arrogant.
Emily stood on the porch holding Sophie.
This time neither of them was cold.
“You can’t leave your own mother homeless,” Rebecca cried.
Emily stepped forward.
“You left a baby in a blizzard.”
I handed my mother an envelope.
Inside was a seven-day hotel reservation.
“That’s more compassion than you showed my family.”
Security escorted her away.
The trial moved quickly.
My father cooperated in hopes of reducing his sentence.
The audit uncovered over $38 million in stolen funds.
Hidden accounts.
Fraudulent contracts.
Real estate purchased through shell companies.
Employee pension theft.
My father received nine years in federal prison.
My mother received five years for identity theft, forgery, conspiracy, and unlawful administration of controlled substances.
At sentencing, the judge said something neither of them could escape.
“You did not act out of necessity.”
He looked directly at my mother.
