Chapter 9 - THE VERDICT AND THE SENTENCE
The jury deliberated for less than forty-five minutes—one of the fastest deliberations for a major felony trial in the county's history.
When the court reconvened at 5:00 PM, the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation. The gallery was packed with reporters, local citizens, and members of the dance community who had traveled across the country to support me.
"Will the defendants please stand?" Judge Harrison ordered.
Darren and Monica stood up slowly. Darren looked like a dead man walking; Monica was shaking so violently her attorney had to steady her arm.
"On the first count of Attempted Premeditated Murder in the First Degree," the jury foreman read aloud, his voice steady and resonant, "we find the defendant, Darren Holloway, GUILTY."
A collective gasp echoed through the courtroom, followed by instant applause that the judge quickly silenced.
"On the second count of Aggravated Assault with a Deadly Weapon, we find the defendant, Darren Holloway, GUILTY."
"On the third count of Insurance Fraud in Excess of $1,000,000, we find the defendant, Darren Holloway, GUILTY."
The foreman turned his gaze toward my mother.
"On the count of Conspiracy to Commit Premeditated Murder, we find the defendant, Monica Holloway, GUILTY."
"On the count of Insurance Fraud and False Representation, we find the defendant, Monica Holloway, GUILTY."
Monica let out a piercing shriek and collapsed into her chair, burying her face in her hands. Darren did not move; he simply stared blankly at the floorboards as his life crumbled into ash.
Three weeks later, the sentencing hearing was held.
Judge Harrison did not hold back. He looked down at my parents from his high bench with an expression of absolute disgust.
"In my thirty years on the bench," Judge Harrison said, his voice booming through the chamber, "I have seen acts of unbelievable cruelty. But the sheer cold, calculating betrayal exhibited by you two toward your own daughter—a young woman who brought nothing but beauty, talent, and light into this world—is among the most monstrous things I have ever witnessed."
He turned to my father. "Darren Holloway, for the charges of attempted murder, aggravated assault, and insurance fraud, I sentence you to forty-five years in the Ohio State Penitentiary, without the possibility of parole until you have served at least thirty-five years."
My father closed his eyes as the sentence came down like a hammer.
He turned to my mother. "Monica Holloway, for your active participation, conspiracy, and heartless cruelty in this horrific plot, I sentence you to twenty-eight years in the Dayton Correctional Institution."
As the bailiffs stepped forward to chain their wrists and legs in heavy iron shackles, my mother suddenly turned toward the gallery, looking directly at me.
"Sienna!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperate, fake hysterics. "Sienna, please! Tell them! Tell them you forgive us! We’re your parents! You can't let them do this to us!"
I stood up slowly, relying lightly on my cane. I looked at the woman who had brought me into the world, who had called me a leech while I bled on her grass, who had tried to trade my mobility for a mortgage payout.
I didn't yell. I didn't cry. I simply looked at her with total, unshakeable indifference.
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"I don't hate you, Monica," I said, my voice carrying clearly across the quiet room. "Because hatred requires feeling something. And to me, you're nothing at all."
I turned my back on them both as the guards dragged them kicking and screaming through the heavy metal side doors, out of my life forever.
