Chapter 23 - The Last Time Corinne Saw Adrian
Eight months after the yacht incident, Corinne appeared in court for a hearing concerning a negotiated criminal resolution.
The prosecution had initially pursued an attempted-murder charge.
After extensive review of the evidence, the parties entered discussions concerning a plea to a serious felony assault offense and an additional child-endangerment-related count.
The prosecutor explained that the agreement avoided requiring Junie to testify in a contested trial and reflected both Corinne's admitted conduct and the uncertainties surrounding proof of an intent to kill.
The court reviewed the proposed agreement and Corinne's admissions.
There was no promise that her sentence would be light.
Adrian attended.
He sat beside Helen in the second row.
Celia stayed home with Junie.
Corinne entered wearing a plain navy dress.
Her hair was tied back.
She looked older.
Not because she'd lost her beauty.
Because there was nothing left for it to hide behind.
For a moment, she looked toward Adrian.
He met her eyes.
Neither smiled.
When the judge asked Corinne to describe her conduct, she stood.
Her voice trembled.
“I pushed my stepdaughter near an exposed edge on a yacht. I knew there was a risk she could fall.”
She paused.
“I lied afterward. I said I tried to catch her.”
The judge asked whether she understood the rights she was giving up by pleading guilty.
She said yes.
The prosecutor presented the factual basis and summarized the child's injuries, the dangerous height above the water, and Corinne's delayed response.
Then Adrian was permitted to address the court.
He stood with a prepared statement.
For weeks, he'd rewritten it.
Every draft had sounded wrong.
Too angry.
Too forgiving.
Too polished.
He looked at the paper.
Then folded it.
“My daughter is five,” he began.
He stopped.
“Sorry. She turned six last month.”
His voice caught unexpectedly.
There was a small silence.
He cleared his throat.
“On the day she went over the side of our yacht, she thought she was going to die.”
Corinne lowered her head.
Adrian continued.
“She still wakes up from nightmares. She asks whether doors are locked. She gets frightened when she hears waves in videos.”
He swallowed.
“She used to beg me to take her sailing. Now she won't even walk onto a dock.”
The courtroom was silent.
“I used to think being a good father meant giving her everything I never had. A beautiful house. Vacations. Opportunities.”
He looked toward the judge.
“Turns out she mostly wanted me to listen when she talked.”
His voice grew firmer.
“What happened to Junie was not an accident. Corinne admitted what she did. I hope the court considers the danger she created and the lasting harm to my daughter.”
He glanced toward Corinne.
“But I don't want my daughter growing up believing that cruelty makes cruelty acceptable. I don't want revenge to become another thing she carries.”
He paused.
“I want her to feel safe. And I want the person who hurt her to take responsibility.”
He sat.
Corinne was crying.
The judge accepted the plea after the required inquiry and scheduled sentencing following a presentence investigation.
Several weeks later, Corinne received a substantial prison sentence.
The exact number of years seemed less important to Adrian than the fact that she would no longer be able to deny what she'd done.
After the hearing, Daniel Price approached him in the courthouse hallway.
“Adrian?”
He turned.
“Daniel.”
“Corinne asked me to give you something.”
He held out a sealed envelope.
Adrian looked at it.
“What is it?”
“A letter.”
Adrian hesitated.
He didn't want another explanation.
Didn't want to hear that Corinne had been lonely, manipulated, frightened, or desperate.
He knew those things already.
None changed what she'd done.
Still, he took the envelope.
He opened it that evening.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Adrian,
I've spent months trying to figure out when I became someone capable of hurting a child.
I could blame Graham. I could blame Nathan. I could tell you I hated living in Elise's shadow.
All those things are part of the story.
But I made the choice.
When Junie looked at me from the other side of the yacht, I could have reached down. I didn't.
I wanted you to love me more than anything, and somehow I convinced myself your love was something she was taking away.
That was never true.
I don't expect you to forgive me.
Please tell Junie that the terrible things I said about her weren't true. She was never the reason our family broke apart.
I was.
Adrian read the letter twice.
Then he placed it inside his desk drawer.
He did not show it to Junie.
Not yet.
Perhaps someday, when she was older and could decide whether she wanted to read it.
For now, her childhood belonged to her.
Not to Corinne's need for absolution.
Two weeks later, Adrian's divorce became final.
He removed his wedding ring and placed it in a small box.
Then he walked upstairs.
Junie was building a cardboard castle on her bedroom floor.
“Daddy!”
“Hey.”
“Come help.”
He sat beside her.
She handed him a roll of tape.
“Your job is the tower.”
“Am I qualified?”
Junie studied him.
“Not really.”
He laughed.
“Fair enough.”
She leaned against him.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we make the castle strong enough that nobody falls out?”
Adrian looked at the cardboard walls.
Then at his daughter.
“Yeah, peanut.”
May you like
He picked up the tape.
“Let's make it strong.”
