Page 57 of Deliver Me

Mia swayed on her feet. Capital murder in Texas was the same as first degree. She knew it wasn’t over, Amy had explained that the jury could find him guilty of any of the lesser included charges, but not guilty in the highest charge meant that he could not be given the same hopeless sentence as he had before. He would not serve a life sentence with no chance of parole.

The juror kept talking. “On the charge of murder, we find the defendant guilty as charged.”

Guilty. Not capital murder, but murder. A less punishable offense, equal to what most states considered murder in the second degree. They believed he had killed his father, but they did not believe it was a premeditated act.

Amy nodded in her seat, leaning over to speak to Gabriel as the rest of the courtroom shifted restlessly. They’d expected this. Amy knew how much they had hoped for an acquittal, but she hadn’t lied to them about the odds.

“Thank you,” Judge Turner said as the juror resumed her seat and Mr. Price huffed and reshuffled his papers. “Bailiff, please remand the defendant into custody until sentencing.”

Sentencing.

Amy had told them it took the judge an average of ninety days to make a decision in criminal proceedings, but she doubted that the judge would take that long in this case. A few weeks, she predicted, and then they would know. Then they would have answers about their future.

Gabriel didn’t look back as he was led away, but she could see the slight droop in his shoulders. It was far from the worst it could have been, but now that the tension of the moment had passed, they were faced with more waiting.

Sentencing was surprisingly similar to the trial itself. There was no jury sitting in the box, but Amy and Mr. Price once again faced the judge, each of them explaining their position and the requests they were making of the court. Mr. Price asked that the judge impose the maximum sentence—life in prison, eligible for parole after he had served forty of those years. Amy made their case for leniency.

Both sides had the chance to present witnesses to support their arguments and Dr. Engell testified again, speaking to the judge directly about the impact of Gabriel’s mental state and how she believed he was unlikely to re-offend. The prosecution spoke at length about the rights of the victims to feel safe, toknow that their loved ones had received justice, but he was missing one crucial thing that Amy had explained would’ve been invaluable to the state’s position.

Normally this would be the time when the victim’s family could address the court and give their impact statements, tell the judge how deeply the loss of their loved one had affected their lives and ask for the imposition of a harsh sentence. But Hugh Myers’ parents were dead and his wife, despite the doubts and the anger that she felt toward their son, was not there.

Finally, it was over, and the courtroom quieted as Judge Turner began to speak. “A murder this violent, committed by someone as close to the victim as his own son, is a terrible tragedy, and the public must be protected.”

Mia sucked in air through her nose, her body floating, untethered, as she tried to understand the words that would give her hope or turn everything to ash. She was sobbing quietly, her knuckles pressed to her mouth to stifle the sounds until she tasted her own blood on her tongue. Mr. Price was looking quite smug at his table and Amy was rubbing Gabriel’s arm as he stared straight ahead, unmoving. If he was crying, too, Mia couldn’t tell from her spot on the bench behind him.

“However,” the judge continued, “circumstances in this case are extenuating and it is my professional opinion that a blatant miscarriage of justice occurred at this young man’s original trial. The sitting judge’s refusal to allow the jury to hear crucial evidence about a history of abuse and the defendant’s state of mind at the time of the murder was more than enough to warrant a new decision.”

Price was looking a lot less smug, his self-satisfied smirk starting to drop at the corners.

“He stands before me now, seeking justice again for the crime he committed. His new conviction shows clearly the inappropriateness of him serving a life sentence without parole,but now I must decide for myself when I believe there is a chance for him to safely reenter society and how much he should be punished for his actions of that fateful night.”

She sighed and pressed her hand to the bridge of her nose and Mia stopped breathing entirely, unable to force her lungs to work or heart to slow its frantic beat.

“My answer to the first question is that I do not believe that he would be a danger to others outside of those particular circumstances and that keeping him in prison is not necessary to ensure the public safety,” she said, looking at Gabriel as he stood absolutely still except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

His lips were tinged blue at the corners, the air passing through his panicked lungs too quickly to provide him the oxygen he needed. His emotions were written clearly on his face, not the blank slate stare of so many years ago, but the terrified look of a man with everything to lose.

“Which brings me to the question of punishment and what is fair in exchange for the life he stole,” the judge continued. “Something must be given, surely, but no member of the victim’s family has come forward to urge that this man remains imprisoned, and his crime was committed while he was a minor in considerable distress.”

Mia’s mind raced, her thoughts forging ahead to count how old she would be if he got a forty-year sentence … thirty … twenty-five …what if he only got fifteen when he’d already served thirteen of those years …

“It is my decision that the defendant in this case will receive a new sentence of twelve years, to be satisfied with the time he has already served in prison.”

Amy was gripping Gabriel’s arm so tightly that her knuckles were white as the judge wished them all a good day and tapped her gavel to dismiss them. She began whispering to him, quick and excited, as he looked down at her in stunned silence.

“What does that mean?” Mia demanded, leaning forward over the short barrier that separated them to grab Amy by the sleeve. “What does that mean?” she repeated, afraid to believe what her mind was telling her.

“It means he’s coming home,” Amy said, hugging Gabriel fiercely as the guards moved forward to take him away.

“Then why are they taking him?” Mia asked, trying urgently to slide by the others as she followed Gabriel toward the exit door. She came up short when Lilly stepped in front of her, Amy’s instructions to keep her from following more intimidating than Mia’s anger at being corralled.

“He has to go back.” Amy explained. “It’s normal for them to return him to the prison to collect his belongings while they process his release. The judge’s office will file the paperwork, and he should walk out a free man within the next twenty-four hours.”

Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gabriel sat on his bunk and watched the sun creep in through the window as the sink dripped. He’d listened to that drip for more years than he could remember. It was there at night when he went to sleep, and it was there in the morning when he woke up.

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