Chapter 10 - One Breath at a Time
Six months later, the federal court was cold and crowded.
I sat on the hard wooden bench in the front row of the gallery, wearing a simple grey wool coat.
Garrett stood at the defense table, wearing a bright orange jumpsuit, his hands and feet chained. He had lost weight; his thick, styled hair was cut short and grey, and the confident, handsome charm that had once defined him was completely gone.
The judge—a stern, grey-haired woman with eyes like flint—looked down at him over her glasses.
"Mr. Vance," the judge said, her voice echoing through the courtroom. "Your actions are not merely a violation of federal law; they are a profound, stomach-turning betrayal of the most sacred duty a human being can possess. You stole from your own sick child. You used his life-support fund to finance a life of luxury and deceit while he lay dying in a hospital bed."
Garrett bowed his head, his shoulders shaking.
"For the charges of wire fraud, grand larceny, and breach of fiduciary duty," the judge continued, "I sentence you to eighteen years in a federal correctional facility, with no possibility of parole."
The courtroom erupted into a flurry of whispers and the scratching of reporters' pens.
Garrett turned his head slowly, his eyes searching the gallery until they landed on me.
I stood up. I didn't look at him with anger. I didn't look at him with triumph. I looked at him with the cold, absolute indifference of a stranger.
He had wanted to be remembered. He had wanted his name to stand for wealth, power, and legacy.
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But as he was led out of the courtroom by the bailiffs, his chains clinking loudly against the linoleum, he knew the truth.
His legacy was nothing but a cold, empty cell.
