“Considering the gravity of the charges, the pattern of criminal behavior, and the demonstrated flight risk, I deny bail for Caleb Vance. In the case of Harper Vance, I set bail at $200,000.”
$200,000. The same amount they had stolen.
Harper didn’t have that money. Her condo was being foreclosed on by the bank. She couldn’t pay. Both would remain in prison until the trial.
Harper collapsed, crying. Caleb stared ahead with an empty expression. The guards took them out of the room.
Jessica approached me in the hallway. She held the baby against her chest.
“Mrs. Vance,” she said with a tired voice, “I just want you to know that I am going to divorce Caleb. I don’t want my daughter growing up thinking this type of behavior is normal.”
She paused.
“I also want to apologize for calling you that night. It wasn’t my place to ask you to protect Caleb. You are right. He has to face the consequences.”
I looked her in the eyes, this young woman who had been deceived by my son.
“What is the baby’s name?” I asked softly.
“Lily,” she replied. “Lily Vance.”
“It is a beautiful name,” I said. And then, without thinking, I added, “When all this is over, if you ever need anything, here is my number.”
I gave her my card. She took it with surprise.
“Why would you do that for me? I am the wife of the man who tried to steal from you.”
“You are the mother of my granddaughter,” I replied. “And you are not to blame for Caleb’s decisions. If Lily ever wants to meet her grandmother, my door will be open.”
Jessica started crying.
“Thank you, Mrs. Vance. Thank you.”
She left with the baby. Margaret hugged me.
“That was beautiful, Elleanor.”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Maybe I am being foolish again.”
“No,” said Margaret firmly. “You are being human. There is a difference between setting boundaries and closing your heart completely. You are setting boundaries with your children. But that baby is innocent.”
That night, alone at home, I thought a lot about everything that had happened. In a week, my life had changed completely. My children were in prison. I had testified against them. I had met my granddaughter. I had offered help to the woman my son had abandoned. And strangely, despite all the pain, I felt more at peace than in years. Because for the first time, I wasn’t protecting anyone from their own decisions. I wasn’t allowing them to use me. I wasn’t sacrificing myself for people who didn’t value me. I was choosing myself. And that choice, although painful, was right.
The trial began three months later. Three months during which Harper and Caleb remained in preventive detention. Three months in which I didn’t try to visit them a single time. Three months in which I rebuilt my life piece by piece.
The courtroom was full. Besides my case, five other victims of Caleb’s frauds had appeared—small business owners he had scammed with investment promises, an elderly woman he had convinced to lend him money for a fictitious business. Harper also had her own victims, mainly related to resale schemes of products she never delivered.
James had prepared me exhaustively for my testimony, but nothing prepared me to see my children sitting on the defendant’s bench, dressed in cheap suits their public defenders had gotten them, looking at me with a mix of shame and resentment.
The DA called me to the stand on the second day of the trial. I walked with my head held high, swore to tell the truth, and sat down.
“Mrs. Vance,” began the DA, “can you tell the jury what your relationship was with the defendants?”
“They are my children,” I replied with a clear voice. “Harper is my eldest daughter. Caleb is my youngest son. I raised them alone after my husband died twenty-five years ago.”
“And how would you describe your relationship with them in the last few years?”
“Non-existent,” I said. “Until they discovered I had bought a new house. Then they appeared, demanding I put their names on the deed.”
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