Then he delivered the sentence.
Six years in state prison, with the possibility of parole after three, plus restitution, repayment, and all financial obligations tied to the fraud.
Lauren broke into loud sobs.
“This is all your fault,” she screamed at me. “I hate you.”
The judge looked at her coldly.
“Miss Matau, you have your own case next week. Save your energy for that.”
Outside the courtroom, reporters waited with cameras and microphones.
Helen and Scott stood beside me like bodyguards.
“Miss Matau, how does it feel sending your parents to prison?” one reporter called.
I looked straight into the cameras.
“I didn’t send them anywhere. Their choices did.”
“Jacqueline!”
Mom called out as officers walked them past me.
“We did all this for you kids.”
“No, Mom. You did it to us. That’s not the same thing.”
Dad would not look at me.
Lauren tried to rush toward me, but her lawyer stopped her.
“You’re dead to me!” she shouted.
I smiled faintly.
“Funny. I’ve never felt more alive.”
Detective Victoria stepped in with a small security team.
“Let’s get you out of here. Your sister’s getting a little unstable.”
In the parking lot, Scott opened the car door for me.
“Want to grab a drink?”
“Actually…”
I pulled out my phone and showed him an email.
“I have a house closing to get to.”
Helen lit up.
“The one we saw last week?”
“That’s the one.”
I smiled.
“Looks like karma has excellent timing. My parents lose their house the same day I buy mine.”
From across the lot, Lauren’s voice cut through the noise.
She had broken loose from her lawyer.
“You can’t do this! Where are Mom and Dad supposed to live when they get out?”
I called back without turning around.
“Not my problem. Try getting a job instead of asking for handouts.”
As we drove away, I looked into the rearview mirror.
Officers were putting my parents into a prison van.
Lauren stood alone on the courthouse steps, crying and shouting into her phone, mascara streaked down her face.
“You okay?” Scott asked softly.
I thought about the house waiting for me. The new job. The silence. The freedom.
Then I smiled.
“For the first time in my life? Yes. I really am.”
He smiled too.
“We’ve got a house closing to get to. Ready to start your new life?”
I looked at the road ahead.
It was wide and clear.
“More than ready. Let’s go home.”
“Last box,” Scott said later, setting it down in my new kitchen.
Sunlight poured through the big windows, warming the granite counters I had fallen in love with the moment I walked through the front door.
I ran my hand over the smooth surface.
“I still can’t believe this is mine. All mine.”
“Better believe it,” Helen said, coming in with a bottle of champagne. “This calls for a celebration. First night in your new house.”
My phone buzzed with a news alert.
Lauren’s sentence had just been announced.
I clicked the link.
Local woman gets four years for identity theft.
Helen gently took the phone from my hand.
“Don’t. Not tonight. This is your moment.”
The doorbell rang.
