Chapter 5 - The War Outside the Hospital
The next three weeks were a whirlwind of legal battles, social media warfare, and intensive healing.
Grace and Sam were discharged from the hospital after a week. I didn't take them back to our house. The memories there were too toxic. Instead, I rented a beautiful, secure Airbnb on the other side of town, surrounded by nature and gated security. I hired a cleaning crew to pack up our belongings and put my house on the market. We were starting over.
But my mother wasn't going down without a fight.
Josephine and Melanie had managed to post a massive bail, draining my mother's retirement fund to do so. The moment she was out, the smear campaign began.
My phone blew up with texts from aunts, uncles, and cousins.
“How could you do this to your mother, Leo?”
“Grace is obviously suffering from postpartum psychosis! She did this to herself!”
“Arresting your own sister? You are a monster, Leo.”
Josephine had spun a masterful web of lies. She told the extended family that Grace had suffered a mental breakdown, tied herself up in a fit of hysteria, and that Josephine and Melanie were desperately trying to nurse her back to health. She played the weeping, victimized matriarch perfectly on Facebook, garnering sympathy from hundreds of people.
"Don't read them," Grace said one morning, gently pulling my phone out of my hand as we sat on the porch of our rental. She was holding Sam, who was finally back to a healthy weight, cooing happily in her arms.
"It makes me sick," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Half my family actually believes her."
"Let them," Grace said, her eyes fierce. "We don't need a family that protects abusers. We have our own family now."
She was right. I blocked every single relative who dared to defend my mother. I changed my number. I hired the most ruthless, aggressive prosecutor-turned-defense-attorney in Des Moines, a man named Robert Sterling.
"They’re trying to build a defense around postpartum depression," Mr. Sterling told us during a meeting in his sleek downtown office. "They are going to argue that Grace was a danger to herself and the baby, and that Josephine restrained her out of misguided love."
"How do we destroy that defense?" I asked, leaning forward.
Sterling smirked, pulling out a thick folder. "With evidence. We have the forensic analysis of the zip-ties. It requires immense physical force to pull them that tight—force a weak, postpartum woman couldn't exert on herself. We have the financial documents proving motive. And most importantly... we have Melanie."
"Melanie?" Grace asked, confused.
"Your sister is weak, Mr. Sullivan," Sterling chuckled. "She's facing twenty years for kidnapping and child endangerment. The District Attorney offered her a plea deal. Five years probation if she testifies against your mother."
I looked at Grace, a slow smile spreading across my face.
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My mother had spent her whole life pitting her children against each other. Now, her golden child was going to be the one to drive the final nail into her coffin.
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