Chapter 7
The embezzlement trial began a month later.
I had to testify, which was hard.
I had to relive every humiliation, every insult, every moment of fear from my marriage.
I had to stand in front of a courtroom full of people and tell them how the Morrisons had treated me, how they’d stolen from me, how they’d tried to take my baby.
But I wasn’t scared anymore.
I looked at Diane and Brendan, sitting at the defense table, their faces tight and angry, and I felt nothing but pity.
They’d spent their whole lives chasing money and status, thinking that’s what made them important.
But they had nothing.
No real love.
No real family.
Nothing but greed and cruelty.
Jessica testified against them, her voice shaking as she told the court about the fake invoices, the money Diane had siphoned, the way Brendan had helped her cover it up.
She told them about the dinner party, about the water, about the way they’d all laughed while I stood there soaked and shivering.
She cried as she apologized, saying she’d been scared of Diane, scared of losing her job and her status.
I didn’t forgive her, but I believed her.
Fear makes people do terrible things.
The defense tried to paint Diane as a “devoted mother and grandmother” who’d only taken the money to “provide for her family.”
They tried to say Brendan had no idea what his mother was doing, that he’d been manipulated too.
But the evidence was overwhelming.
Bank records, emails, witness statements, Jessica’s testimony.
There was no way they could win.
The jury deliberated for two days.
When they came back, the courtroom was dead silent.
The foreman stood up, his voice clear.
“We find the defendant, Diane Morrison, guilty on all counts of embezzlement and fraud.”
Diane gasped, her face going white.
“We find the defendant, Brendan Morrison, guilty on all counts of aiding and abetting embezzlement, and violating a restraining order.”
Brendan slumped in his seat, his face in his hands.
The judge set a sentencing date for two weeks later.
As the guards led Diane and Brendan out of the courtroom, Diane looked at me, her eyes full of rage.
“This isn’t over,” she mouthed.
But I knew it was.
They’d lost.
They’d lost their jobs, their money, their status, their freedom.
And they’d lost any chance of ever being part of Lila’s life.
Arthur squeezed my hand.
“We did it,” he said.
I nodded, but I didn’t feel triumphant.
I just felt tired.
Tired of fighting.
Tired of the drama.
Ready to go home to my daughter, to start our new life together.
Outside the courthouse, reporters shouted questions at me.
I didn’t answer any of them.
I just got in the car and went home.
May you like
Mia was there, holding Lila, who smiled when she saw me.
I took her in my arms, breathing in her soft baby smell, and for the first time in years, I felt like I could finally breathe.
