Chapter 16 - Amanda’s Estate Probate lasted longer than anyone expected.
Taxes.
Property sale.
Duplex management.
Robert’s disputed reimbursement claims.
Calder Row cross-claims.
Life insurance.
Amanda had a $750,000 policy.
Beneficiary:
My trust.
Robert received nothing.
Important because it weakened any theory he killed Amanda for insurance.
The prosecution had never argued that.
Online strangers did.
Wrong.
Amanda’s retirement account also named me.
The estate itself was modest after property moved into trust structures.
No sudden heiress fantasy.
Julia became trustee with a professional co-trustee.
Why professional?
Naomi recommended.
“Julia is guardian. She should not also have unchecked control of every dollar.”
Julia agreed.
Healthy.
I hated meetings.
Quarterly statements.
Education budget.
Medical expenses.
No one let me buy a horse at twelve.
Oppression.
The duplex produced rent.
At thirteen, I visited.
Grandma Evelyn had owned it.
I had barely remembered.
The tenant downstairs had lived there twelve years.
He said:
“Your grandmother used to fix everything herself.”
Julia whispered:
“Poorly.”
We laughed.
The building became something other than collateral fraud.
That mattered.
Then Robert’s appeal produced a decision.
Evidence-tampering conviction:
Affirmed.
Financial fraud:
Affirmed.
Manslaughter:
New hearing on one jury instruction.
My stomach dropped when Julia explained.
“Does he get out?”
“No.”
“Is he innocent?”
“No.”
“The appellate court says the instruction on causation may have been too broad.”
“What does that mean?”
“The trial court has to determine whether the error was harmless or whether that conviction needs a new trial.”
I hated law again.
The prosecution prepared.
Robert’s lawyers argued a new trial was required because jurors might have convicted based on the nineteen-minute delay rather than physical recklessness.
The original charge theory focused both.
Medical evidence could not prove delay caused death.
The instruction may have allowed jurors to blur them.
Serious issue.
The trial judge ordered a new trial on manslaughter.
The other convictions remained.
Robert stayed imprisoned.
Julia cried in the kitchen.
I did not.
I asked:
“What if they find him not guilty?”
She looked at me carefully.
“Then the other convictions still stand.”
“Did Mom still die?”
“Yes.”
“Did he still take the drive?”
“Yes.”
“Then okay.”
Not actually okay.
But I had learned legal outcomes did not own the facts I already knew.
A retrial began planning.
I was fourteen now.
Old enough that prosecutors asked whether I wanted more information.
“Yes.”
I also wanted the ring back.
The evidence custodian said not yet.
May you like
That annoyed me more than the appellate ruling.
Sometimes grief chooses strange objects to focus on.
Related Stories
