My mother-in-law kicked me when I was thirty-two weeks pregnant

When the jury filed back into the courtroom late Thursday afternoon, the air was thick with palpable tension.

Emily sat with her fingers interlocked with Daniel’s, her breath shallow, her heart pounding against her ribs.

The foreperson of the jury stood up, holding a crisp white envelope, and handed it to the bailiff, who delivered it to Judge Vance.

Judge Vance scanned the document, her expression completely unreadable, before handing it back to the clerk to read aloud.

The courtroom clerk cleared his throat.

“In the case of The State of New York versus Margaret Sterling, on the first count of second-degree depraved-heart murder of an unborn child, how does the jury find?”

The clerk paused for a fraction of a second that felt like an eternity.

“Guilty.”

A murmur rippled through the gallery.

“On the second count of felony aggravated assault resulting in termination of pregnancy, how does the jury find?”

“Guilty.”

“On the third count of domestic battery, how does the jury find?”

“Guilty.”

Margaret Sterling slumped forward, burying her face in her cuffed hands, finally emitting a low, dry, hopeless sob. Her empire of money, social standing, and intimidation had completely evaporated against the unyielding wall of justice.

Judge Vance looked down from the bench at the defendant.

“Margaret Sterling, you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers of heinous crimes driven by unchecked narcissism and violent rage,” Judge Vance said, her voice ringing out with absolute authority. “You destroyed an innocent life and shattered a family. There is no place for people of your disposition in civilized society.”

The judge picked up her heavy wooden gavel.

“I sentence you to twenty-five years to life in the state maximum-security correctional facility, with no possibility of parole for the first twenty years.”

Bang.

The gavel came down with a final, echoing crash that signaled the absolute end of Margaret’s reign of terror.

As court officers hoisted Margaret to her feet and led her away in chains toward the holding cells, she cast one last, desperate, pleading look toward her son.