Chapter 5 - The Fall of Derek Vance
Six months later, the autumn leaves in Boston had fallen, leaving the trees bare against a crisp, clean sky. Inside the courthouse in our hometown, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. I had flown back for forty-eight hours just to look Derek in the eye one last time.
Derek sat at the defense table, wearing a cheap, ill-fitting suit he must have bought from a department store rack. He had lost weight, but not in a healthy way. His face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot, his hands trembling as he shuffled papers. Next to him sat a public defender who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
Vanessa was not there. I had learned from Calvin that she had moved back into our father’s cramped two-bedroom trailer, her dreams of a suburban mansion thoroughly shattered.
"The court is now in session," the bailiff announced.
The judge, an older woman named Magistrate Higgins, reviewed the documents with a scowl that deepened with every page she turned.
"Mr. Vance," Judge Higgins said, her voice echoing through the courtroom. "The evidence presented by the prosecution and the forensic auditors is overwhelming. Over a period of two years, you systematically embezzled over $450,000 from the Rhodes Holding Group. You committed identity theft against your wife of nine years, and you attempted to defraud financial institutions using forged legal documents. All of this while your child was undergoing intensive medical care."
Derek stood up, his voice cracking. "Your Honor, I was desperate. My marriage was falling apart, and I was under immense pressure. I built that company! I deserved that money!"
"You built nothing, Mr. Vance," the judge cut him off sharply. "You were an employee who abused his position of trust to fund a lavish lifestyle with your mistress. Your actions show a complete lack of moral compass and a profound disregard for the law."
The judge didn't hesitate. She sentenced him to twelve years in a federal medium-security prison, with no possibility of parole for the first eight, followed by mandatory full restitution of all stolen funds.
As the handcuffs clicked around Derek’s wrists, he spun around to look at me in the gallery. "Marissa! Please! You can't let them do this! Tell them to drop the restitution! I won't have anything left when I get out! I’ll be ruined!"
I stood up slowly, smoothing down the front of my tailored coat. I walked toward the railing separating us.
"You told me Holly had a good run, Derek," I said, my voice carrying clearly through the silent courtroom. "Now it’s your turn. Have a good run."
The bailiffs pulled him through the side door, his desperate shouts fading into the bowels of the courthouse.
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I walked out into the crisp afternoon air, feeling a weight lift off my chest that I hadn't realized I was carrying. The man who had mocked my daughter’s dying breath was gone. He was a number now, a inmate trapped in a cage of his own making.
But my battle wasn't fully over. I still had one sister to deal with.
