Chapter 8 - The Verdict
The jury deliberated for less than forty-five minutes.
When the twelve jurors returned to the courtroom at five o'clock that evening, the air inside was thick with anticipation.
"Will the defendant please stand?" Judge Miller commanded.
Brenda Vance stood up slowly. Her hands were chained at her waist, but her head was still held unnaturally high, refusing to show weakness.
"In the matter of State of Arizona versus Brenda Vance," the jury foreman read aloud, his voice steady and resolute.
"On Count One: Attempted Murder in the First Degree... we find the defendant, Brenda Vance, GUILTY."
"On Count Two: Conspiracy to Commit Child Endangerment... GUILTY."
"On Count Three: Unlawful Administration of Controlled Substances... GUILTY."
"On Count Four: Corporate Extortion and Fraud... GUILTY."
Guilty on all eleven counts.
A quiet sigh of relief escaped my lips as my father wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Tears trickled down my face—not tears of sadness, but of overwhelming liberation.
Judge Miller looked down at Brenda from the bench, his expression dark and severe.
"Brenda Vance," Judge Miller spoke, his voice booming through the room. "In my thirty years on the bench, I have rarely seen a display of such calculated, cold-hearted cruelty against one's own family. You used your immense wealth not to build up your children, but to destroy a young mother and endanger innocent infants."
He didn't wait for a pre-sentencing report.
"I sentence you to thirty-five years in the Arizona State Penitentiary, without the possibility of parole. You will spend the remainder of your natural life behind bars."
Brenda’s knees finally gave out. The arrogant matriarch sank onto the hard wood floor of the courtroom, her face pale, as bailiffs stepped forward to lift her up and drag her through the heavy iron doors into the dark corridor behind the bench.
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As she was pulled away, she looked at me one last time.
I didn't glare at her. I didn't smile. I simply held my head high, standing beside my brother-in-law and my father—a mother who had fought for her children and won.
