Chapter 7 - CASSANDRA’S SENTENCE
Cassandra pleaded guilty.
Not to attempted murder.
The evidence supported conspiracy to create a child-endangerment incident, obstruction, and related fraud.
Martin Reeve faced more serious charges because investigators established he deliberately intended the event to become medically catastrophic.
At Cassandra’s sentencing, Alio submitted a statement.
He did not ask for maximum punishment.
He did not ask for leniency.
He described what happened.
Then wrote:
Thomas may one day ask why his aunt did this. I do not want the answer to be that she was simply evil, because that would be easier and less true. She was grieving, ambitious, frightened, manipulated, and still responsible for choosing to leave him in that car.
Victor read it twice.
“You wrote this?”
“Yes.”
“Therapy.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
Cassandra received a custodial sentence followed by supervision.
Her contact with Tommy would be prohibited unless future family court proceedings and therapists approved it.
Alio did not promise her access later.
Not his decision alone anymore.
That was another lesson.
Tommy’s therapist would matter.
Tommy himself eventually.
The court.
Safety.
Not family pressure.
Outside court, Elise’s father approached.
Arthur Halver.
Seventy.
A man Alio had barely spoken to since the funeral.
“You destroyed my daughter.”
Alio looked at him.
“No.”
“You called police.”
“Yes.”
“Family handles family.”
Alio almost laughed.
That sentence had ruined enough lives.
“Not anymore.”
Arthur’s face hardened.
“You think because you changed diapers for six months you’re a father?”
That landed.
Alio let it.
Then:
“No.”
Arthur blinked.
“I think I become one every day I show up.”
He walked away.
Later, when he told Yolanda, she said:
“That was annoyingly healthy.”
“I hated every word.”
“Still counts.”
He smiled.
“What are you doing Friday?”
She looked at him.
“Why?”
“Dinner.”
“With Tommy and Mercy?”
“No.”
Silence.
Yolanda’s eyebrows rose.
“Oh.”
Alio immediately regretted every criminal negotiation he had ever survived because none felt this exposed.
“If you don't want to—”
“I didn't say no.”
“Right.”
“Do you ask women out often?”
“No.”
“That obvious?”
“Yes.”
He almost laughed.
“Friday?”
Yolanda thought.
Then:
“Yes.”
One date.
Then another.
Slow.
Private.
No employer relationship.
No savior story.
Yolanda paid for coffee the second time because Alio kept reaching for every check automatically.
“You’re unbearable.”
“You invited me to a place with twelve-dollar coffee.”
“Still.”
They learned each other outside crisis.
Yolanda liked old crime novels.
Ironic.
Alio hated television.
Mercy thought this was suspicious.
He could cook exactly three meals.
Yolanda could cook one.
Mrs. Ariyaga had apparently kept everyone alive through sheer discipline.
Nothing about dating erased class difference.
Alio was still extraordinarily wealthy.
Yolanda was a nursing student and single mother.
They talked about that directly.
“If I ever feel like saying no to you affects Mercy or my finances, we stop.”
Alio nodded.
“Yes.”
“If we fight, no security people show up.”
“Yes.”
“No gifts that cost more than my car.”
He looked offended.
“What about jewelry?”
“Especially jewelry.”
“This relationship is oppressive.”
Yolanda smiled.
“Leave.”
He smiled back.
“No.”
Then corrected:
“I mean, I would if you wanted.”
She laughed.
May you like
Progress.
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