Chapter 18 - Twelve People in a Room
The jury took two days to decide. I spent them learning how to bake banana bread. The first loaf collapsed in the middle, and the second was burnt at the edges. Mom ate both and told me the third would be perfect. I decided the third could wait.
When Ms. Reed called, Mom stepped into the bedroom. I heard her say, "All right," and then nothing for a long time. When she came back, she was crying.
"They found Harlan guilty," she told me. "Fraud, conspiracy to obstruct the investigation, and witness intimidation. There will be sentencing later."
I hugged her. I wasn't thinking about prison sentences or how long it had taken. I was thinking about Lena's holiday card and all the people who had gone home safely from buildings with doors that opened.
The news didn't undo the fire. It didn't undo the kitchen. Mom still had a bruised shoulder, and I still startled at heavy footsteps. But now there was a record that could not be erased by somebody shouting louder.
A few weeks later, Ryan pleaded guilty in the assault case and to federal offenses tied to selling our location and interfering with a witness. A judge kept the no-contact conditions in place pending sentencing. His lawyer said he was cooperating. Mom said cooperation was something the court could consider; it wasn't something Emily owed him gratitude for.
Tess sent a photograph of Lena standing in front of her old apartment building, laughing with both hands on her hips. Mom put it on a shelf instead of hiding it in a drawer.
That night I asked, "What if Dad gets out someday?"
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Mom didn't offer a promise she couldn't keep. "We'll have a safety plan. And people who listen when we ask for help. You won't be alone with this again."
I wanted to believe her. For the first time, I thought I might.
