I wanted to sell every foot of the land, every piece of furniture, every painting.

I would use the money to start a foundation.

A place for women who had nowhere else to go when the doors were locked.

I wanted to build something real out of the ashes of that house.

Vance walked over to our table, packing his papers into his leather briefcase.

“We have a lot of work to do for the sentencing hearing,” Vance said.

“But today was a major victory.”

“Thank you, Vance,” I said.

“We’ll be ready.”

Detective Sullivan walked over, his coat open, his hands in his pockets.

“Natalie,” Sullivan said, nodding toward the door.

“The transport van is waiting downstairs.”

“They will be taken to the county jail first, then to the state prison once the paperwork clears.”

“I want to see them leave,” I said.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rachel said, her hand on my arm.

“I need to,” I told her.

We walked out of the courtroom and down the wide marble staircase.

The air outside the courthouse was cold and clean.