Chapter 8
Karen took a plea on the third day.
Her lawyer knew the videos were too strong.
She pleaded guilty to child abuse, unlawful confinement, and violation of a protective order.
The assault charge remained included in sentencing.
She cried when she spoke.
“I was overwhelmed,” she said.
“I loved Mia but did not know how to handle her grief.”
Rachel muttered behind me, “Grief does not fit in a cabinet.”
The judge heard us anyway.
He looked at Karen.
“Ms. Blake, this court has reviewed footage showing repeated, intentional confinement and physical harm to a toddler. This was not poor parenting. This was abuse.”
Karen’s face hardened.
Only for a second.
Long enough for me to see the truth.
She was not sorry.
She was losing.
Karen received prison time, probation after release, mandatory counseling, and a permanent protective order.
She was barred from contacting Mia.
Her baby was born while she awaited transfer.
Child services placed the baby with Travis’s sister after an investigation.
I asked Mara if the baby was safe.
She said yes.
That was enough.
The divorce finalized quietly.
No fight left.
No love to divide.
I sold the house.
Rachel said I did not have to.
I said, “Mia does.”
We moved into a smaller place with sunlight in every room and no lower cabinets big enough to hide a child.
I removed the cabinet doors anyway.
Maybe that was strange.
Maybe healing sometimes is.
Mia helped me paint her room yellow.
She got paint in her hair.
On the floor.
On me.
When she laughed, I cried.
She touched my face with a sticky hand.
“Daddy sad?”
“No, baby.”
May you like
I kissed her palm.
“Daddy happy.”
