He had lost weight in jail, his cheeks sunken and his hair silvered at the temples.

He did not look back at us when we entered the gallery.

The prosecutor presented the forged adoption papers, the bank transfers, and the recorded testimony of Arthur Vance.

Vance had taken thirty thousand dollars from Richard twenty years ago to list Rose as deceased on the state registry.

It was a calculated, cold-blooded theft of a child from a young, grieving mother.

When Richard took the stand, he tried to explain his motives to the jury.

“I loved her,” Richard said, his voice cracking as he looked toward Claire. “I wanted a family, and Rose was in no position to provide for her back then.”

“That was not your decision to make,” the judge said, interrupting him with a heavy gavel strike.

The sentence was handed down on a rainy Tuesday morning.

Richard was sentenced to eight years in a medium-security state penitentiary.

Because of his cooperation and advanced age, Vance received probation and a heavy fine.

As the bailiffs led Richard away in handcuffs, he looked at me one last time through the glass partition.