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Once I’m in prison, he believes he can take it.

I lift my chin. “Yes, Your Honor. Bo Jackson sexually assaulted me. When I defended myself, he punched me unconscious. His son falsified evidence and intimidated witnesses. Everyone in this courtroom knows it.”

The judge’s face reddens. “That is a serious accusation.”

“It’s the truth.”

Joe rises. “Your Honor, this is another example of the defendant’s refusal to accept responsibility.”

“I accept responsibility for slapping a man who grabbed me. I would do it again.”

My attorney groans beside me.

The judge removes his glasses.

“Then perhaps some time in custody will help you reconsider your behavior.”

Fear grips me for the first time.

Not for myself.

For Carrie, Amy, and Lori.

They are sitting at home with my neighbors, believing Mommy will return before dinner.

“How much time?” I whisper.

The judge looks directly at me.

“Four years.”

My knees nearly buckle.

“No.”

“You will be permitted forty-eight hours to arrange care for your children and surrender yourself to the Pine Ridge County Sheriff’s Office.”

Four years.

My triplets are five years old.

They will be nine when I come home.

“No.” I grab the edge of the table. “I’m their only parent. They don’t have anyone else.”

“That should have occurred to you before you committed a violent felony.”

“I was defending myself! All I did was slap him.”

The gavel strikes.

“Court is adjourned.”

I turn toward Bo.

He stands and buttons his suit jacket.

“I’d be happy to take that troublesome ranch off your hands,” he says as he passes me. “You’re going to need money for an appeal.”