Chapter 7 - THE TRIAL
The federal trial of Ethan Caldwell was swift and brutal. Despite his attempts to cooperate, the sheer scale of the fraud—defrauding clients, tax evasion, wire fraud, and grand larceny—left the judge with zero leniency.
I didn't attend the proceedings. I had no desire to see Ethan again. But I watched the final verdict on the evening news from the comfort of my new living room, a fire crackling warmly in the fireplace.
The news anchor looked gravely into the camera. "Today, former prominent Dallas attorney Ethan Caldwell was sentenced to twenty-five years in federal prison without the possibility of early parole. The judge cited Caldwell's gross abuse of fiduciary duty and predatory behavior as key factors in the maximum sentence."
I muted the television.
It was over. The ghost of my past had finally been locked away in a concrete box, unable to ever hurt us again.
I walked down the hall to Noah’s room. The door was slightly ajar. I peered inside. Noah was sitting in his ergonomic gaming chair, three massive monitors glowing in front of him, lines of complex code reflecting in his dark eyes. He looked peaceful.
"Hey," I said softly, knocking on the doorframe.
He spun around, pulling his headphones down around his neck. "Hey, Mom."
"Did you see the news?"
He nodded slowly. "Twenty-five years."
"How do you feel about it?" I asked, stepping into the room and sitting on the edge of his bed. I always worried about the psychological toll this would take on him. He was a genius, but he was still a child who had to destroy his own father.
Noah shrugged, a typical ten-year-old gesture that contrasted wildly with his intellect. "I feel safe. We don't have to look over our shoulders anymore. He can't threaten us, and he can't lie to us."
May you like
"You did good, Noah," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "You saved us."
Noah smiled, a real, bright smile that reached his eyes. "We saved each other, Mom. You never gave up on me when we had nothing. I just leveled the playing field."
