The sterile smell of the hospital room was suffocating, but it was better than the suffocating weight of Luca’s presence.

“On the charge of aggravated domestic assault resulting in severe bodily harm, I sentence Luca Romano to twelve years in state prison, with no possibility of parole for the first eight,” Judge Harrison declared, her voice ringing out with absolute finality.

Luca slumped forward, burying his face in his cuffed hands as a stifled sob broke from his throat.

“On the charge of conspiracy to commit financial fraud and forgery, co-defendant Wendy Romano is sentenced to eight years in state prison,” the judge continued, turning her gaze to the older woman.

Wendy’s mouth dropped open in shock. She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. “You can’t do this! I’m an elderly woman! My health—my son made those choices, not me! This is an outrage—!”

“Sit down, Mrs. Romano, or I will hold you in contempt and add two more years to your sentence,” the bailiff warned, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder and forcing her back down into her seat.

Judge Harrison didn't even blink. “Your calculated complicity, Mrs. Romano, was the driving force behind this entire scheme. You stood over a wounded, pregnant woman and prioritized paperwork over human life. Justice has a very long memory.”

She struck the gavel one final time.

“Court is adjourned.”

As the bailiffs moved in to lead Luca and Wendy away, Luca looked back one last time. His eyes met mine across the courtroom. There was no anger left in them—only a hollow, consuming emptiness. He realized, too late, that the control he had fought so desperately to maintain had completely destroyed him.

I didn't flinch. I didn't look away. I stood tall, holding my daughter securely against my chest, watching them disappear through the heavy wooden doors at the back of the courtroom.

Detective Miller stepped up beside me, offering a quiet, supportive nod.