Chapter 11
We waited.
That’s all you can do in a trial.
Wait.
The family set up camp in the courthouse cafeteria.
Mom brought food.
Abuela showed up with enough empanadas to feed the entire jury.
No one talked about what would happen if we lost.
We all knew.
If the jury didn’t believe us, Michael would walk.
He’d countersue.
He’d take everything.
My company.
My house.
My reputation.
I’d lose it all.
The hours ticked by.
One.
Two.
Three.
By five o’clock, there was still no verdict.
The judge sent them home for the night.
I didn’t sleep.
How could I?
My entire future was in the hands of twelve strangers.
I got up at three in the morning.
Went to my office.
Worked on the hotel plans until the sun came up.
Designing had always been my meditation.
My escape.
And right now, I needed to escape more than ever.
We were back in the courtroom at nine the next morning.
The jury filed in at 9:47.
I studied their faces.
Tried to read them.
Nothing.
They were stone-faced.
Impossible to read.
The bailiff stood.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?”
The foreman stood.
“We have, Your Honor.”
“Please pass it to the bailiff.”
The bailiff carried the piece of paper to the judge.
He read it.
His face gave nothing away.
He passed it to the clerk.
“Will the defendant please rise.”
Michael stood.
Shaking.
I stood too.
The whole room stood.
The clerk began to read.
“On the charge of Conspiracy to Commit Wire Fraud, we the jury find the defendant… GUILTY.”
A breath went through the room.
“On the charge of Wire Fraud—Count One, GUILTY.”
“Count Two, GUILTY.”
“Count Three, GUILTY.”
“On the charge of Forgery, GUILTY.”
“On the charge of Identity Theft, GUILTY.”
“On the charge of Extortion, GUILTY.”
“On the charge of Industrial Espionage, GUILTY.”
“On the charge of Aggravated Assault, GUILTY.”
Charge after charge.
Twenty-three in total.
All guilty.
Every single one.
Michael collapsed into his chair.
His face was ashen.
His lawyer looked like he’d been shot.
The clerk finished.
“On the charge of Conspiracy to Commit Money Laundering, we the jury find the defendant… GUILTY.”
It was over.
Total victory.
The judge set sentencing for four weeks later.
Michael was led away in handcuffs.
He didn’t look at me.
He couldn’t.
I walked out of the courtroom into the hallway.
My family was there.
Cheering.
Crying.
Hugging.
Mom was sobbing into Dad’s shoulder.
Abuela was praying.
Carlos was high-fiving his cousins.
I stood in the middle of it all.
And felt… empty.
Not happy.
Not triumphant.
Just… empty.
It was over.
Michael was going to prison.
Diego was going to prison.
I’d won.
So why did it feel like I’d lost so much?
Dad found me standing alone by the window.
“You did good, mija.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
“But it doesn’t feel like you thought it would.”
“No.”
He put his arm around me.
“Justice rarely feels like victory. It just feels like… the end of something bad. The good part hasn’t started yet. That comes later. When you least expect it.”
He was right.
Of course he was.
Dad was always right.
The civil trial was two months after the criminal one.
It lasted less than a week.
The evidence was overwhelming.
The jury awarded me everything.
Every dollar stolen.
Plus interest.
Plus punitive damages.
Plus legal fees.
The total: thirty-one million, two hundred and forty-seven thousand dollars.
The competitors settled separately for another twelve million.
By the end of it all, I had more money than I’d ever had in my life.
More than Michael and Diego had ever stolen.
But money wasn’t what I wanted.
May you like
It never had been.
I just wanted my life back.
