Sondra was charged with multiple felonies — endangering a child, giving a controlled substance to a minor, tampering with evidence.

Her lawyers argued she’d never meant real harm.

The prosecutor answered that with her own notebook, and with the park footage: my son going down in the grass, and an eight-year-old begging for help while the adult who should have run to him turned away.

Faced with all of it, Sondra took a plea.

She was sentenced to twelve years, and the family, one by one, stopped defending her, until there was no one left who would say her name kindly.

The case never needed me to be eloquent, or Mira to be brave in a courtroom, or anyone to make a speech, and I was grateful for that, because it meant the children were spared the ordeal of performing their pain for a jury.