Chapter 10
The jury deliberated for six hours.
Six of the longest hours of my life.
Amy and I sat in the waiting room.
She held my hand.
Frederick was with a babysitter.
We didn't want him exposed to any more of this.
Sarah sat with us, going over notes.
Trying to look confident.
But I could see the tension in her shoulders.
Finally, the bailiff came in.
"The jury has reached a verdict," he said.
My heart started pounding.
Amy squeezed my hand.
We stood up.
Walked into the courtroom.
My mother was already there.
She looked pale.
Nervous.
For the first time, she didn't look angry.
She looked scared.
Good.
The judge came in.
"All rise," the bailiff said.
We stood.
The judge sat.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," the judge said.
"Have you reached a verdict?"
The foreman stood up.
"We have, Your Honor."
"On the charge of assault on a police officer, how do you find the defendant?"
"Guilty."
My mother gasped.
"On the charge of criminal trespassing, how do you find the defendant?"
"Guilty."
"On the charge of conspiracy to commit fraud, how do you find the defendant?"
"Guilty."
"On the charge of attempted grand theft, how do you find the defendant?"
"Guilty."
The courtroom erupted.
The bailiff called for order.
My mother started screaming.
"This is a travesty of justice!"
"He's my son! I have a right to his things!"
The bailiffs restrained her.
The judge banged his gavel.
"Order! Order in the court!"
Eventually, the room quieted down.
The judge looked at my mother.
"Mrs. Bradley," he said.
"I have presided over many cases in my career."
"But I have rarely seen such a calculated, cruel betrayal of one's own family."
"You manipulated your son's trust."
"You abused your daughter-in-law."
"You endangered your own grandson."
"And you tried to steal everything they had worked for."
He paused.
"The jury has spoken."
"And I agree with their verdict."
Sentencing was scheduled for two weeks later.
My mother was led away in handcuffs.
She didn't look at me.
She didn't look at anyone.
She just stared straight ahead.
Defeated.
Broken.
As we walked out of the courtroom, the media surrounded us.
"Mr. Bradley! How does it feel to have your own mother convicted?"
"Mrs. Bradley! What would you say to other women in your situation?"
Sarah stepped in front of us.
"No comment at this time," she said.
We made our way to the car.
And as soon as the doors closed, Amy started crying.
But they weren't tears of sadness.
They were tears of relief.
Of joy.
Of freedom.
I held her.
"We did it," she whispered.
"We did it."
I kissed the top of her head.
"We did it."
Two weeks later, we returned for sentencing.
The judge was thorough.
He considered all the evidence.
All the testimony.
And then he spoke.
"Teresa Bradley," he said.
"Because of the severity of your crimes, the presence of a child victim, and your complete lack of remorse..."
"I sentence you to fifteen years in state prison."
"With no possibility of parole for ten years."
Fifteen years.
My mother would be in her seventies when she got out.
If she got out.
She collapsed in her chair.
Sobbing.
Screaming that it wasn't fair.
But I didn't feel anything.
No joy.
No sadness.
Just... nothing.
She had made her choices.
And now she would live with the consequences.
As we left the courtroom, Sarah came over to us.
"The civil case should be straightforward now," she said.
"With the criminal conviction, we'll get a judgment in our favor."
"Your mother's assets will be seized to pay back what she stole."
"Including the car she bought, the jewelry, everything."
I nodded.
"Thank you, Sarah."
She smiled.
"It was my pleasure."
"Now go be with your family."
We walked out of the courthouse.
The sun was shining.
May you like
The sky was blue.
And for the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe.
