Chapter 5

The trial was a year later.

I was seventeen now. Ava was nine. My dad had rebuilt his life. He'd sold the old house—too many bad memories—and bought a smaller one, with a big backyard and a treehouse for Ava. He'd quit his job and started his own auto parts business. He was home more. He was happy. We were happy.

But the trial brought it all back. The milk. The insults. The fear. The abuse. And now—my mother's murder.

I testified. I told the court about the two years of abuse. About the rules. The punishments. The morning she poured milk on us. I told them about my mother. About how much I missed her. About how Denise had talked about her like she was garbage.

Ava testified too. Via video. She was nine. She told the court about being locked in her room. About being called a baby. About the milk. About being scared.

The jury listened. They saw the tapes. The hidden cameras my dad had installed. Hours and hours of footage. Denise yelling. Denise insulting. Denise punishing. The milk incident, captured on camera from three angles.

They saw the medical records. The toxicology report. The medication logs with Denise's signature. They heard from the doctors. The nurses. The investigator. Frank—who testified against Denise in exchange for immunity.

Denise's lawyer tried. He tried to say my mother was dying anyway. That Denise was just being compassionate. That the abuse tapes were taken out of context. That the girls were lying. That my dad had manipulated them.

But the jury didn't buy it. The evidence was too strong. Too overwhelming.

The verdict came after two days of deliberation.

Guilty. On all counts. Murder in the first degree. Fraud. Identity theft. Child abuse.

Denise was sentenced to life in prison. No possibility of parole.

The judge called her "a cold, calculating predator who murdered a kind woman to steal her family and her fortune, then abused that woman's children for two years."

After the sentencing, we walked out of the courthouse. The sun was shining. Reporters shouted questions. My dad put his arms around me and Ava. We walked to the car.

And for the first time since my mother died, I felt like I could breathe.

Justice had been served. My mother's killer was in prison. Denise was gone. Forever.

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But it wasn't over. Because there was one more surprise. One more thing Denise had hidden.

And it would change our lives again.