“I’m sorry things got out of control,” he said.
Katie looked at him for several seconds.
Then she answered quietly.
“You pushed me.
Things didn’t get out of control.
You did.”
The courtroom went silent.
The judge looked down at Andrew.
“That distinction is why you are being sentenced today.”
Barbara later pleaded guilty to forgery, obstruction, and conspiracy charges.
Her sentence was shorter, but the social image she had protected so fiercely collapsed.
The birthday guests who once laughed at her jokes learned that the party they had been invited to was designed to help conceal an attack on a child.
The gold balloons disappeared from her porch.
The banner came down.
Her house was eventually sold to cover legal expenses and restitution.
Through the court process, the forged power of attorney was voided, Andrew’s hidden accounts were frozen, and the money he had moved was returned as part of the financial settlement.
I kept the house, though for a long time every room carried a memory I did not want.
I removed the dark jacket from the entryway after police released it from evidence.
I did not keep it, burn it, or create a ceremony around it.
I placed it in a trash bag and let it go.
Katie chose what stayed.
Her medals returned to the hallway closet.
Her scuffed sneakers remained by the door.
On the wall near the kitchen, she hung a photograph from her first gymnastics competition after the attack.
She did not win.
She completed only two routines before stepping away from the floor, overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd.
