Chapter 8 - The Verdict
The courtroom was so quiet you could hear the ticking of the wall clock when the jury marched back into the room.
"Will the defendants please stand," Judge William Henderson commanded.
Helen and Rebecca stood up at the defense table, holding hands. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in my mother's eyes.
"On the first count of Attempted First-Degree Murder," the jury foreman read aloud, "we find the defendant, Helen Vance, guilty."
Helen gasped, her knees giving out, slamming her hips against the heavy oak table as her attorney caught her arm.
"On the second count of Felony Child Abuse," the foreman continued, "we find the defendant, Helen Vance, guilty."
"On the count of Accessory Before the Fact to Attempted First-Degree Murder," the foreman read, turning his gaze toward my sister, "we find the defendant, Rebecca Vance, guilty."
Rebecca burst into hysterical sobs, burying her face in her hands as her defense attorney placed a comforting hand on her back.
Judge Henderson looked down from the bench with absolute sternness.
"In my thirty years on the bench," Judge Henderson said, his voice cold and severe, "I have rarely witnessed a act of such monstrous cruelty carried out within a family circle. To target an innocent, helpless infant out of misplaced malice and petty jealousy is a crime that strikes at the very core of human decency."
He paused, reviewing his sentencing guidelines.
"Helen Vance, I sentence you to twenty-five years in the Virginia Department of Corrections without the possibility of early parole. Rebecca Vance, for your role in facilitating this heinous crime, I sentence you to eight years in prison."
The gavel struck the wooden block with a loud, final thud.
Bailiffs immediately stepped forward, pulling Helen's arms behind her back to apply the heavy transport irons. As she was being led away toward the holding cells behind the courtroom, Helen turned her head, searching the gallery until her eyes found mine.
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"Margaret!" Helen shrieked, her voice echoing off the high ceilings of the courtroom. "You destroyed this family! You did this to us!"
I sat beside my husband and my father, holding my nine-month-old daughter in my arms. I didn't yell back. I didn't cry. I simply looked at her with complete, unshakeable calm, watching the woman who had terrorized my life finally be escorted into the darkness of a prison corridor.
