He pulled into the driveway behind Dad’s car, a little surprised to see Papa home this early when it wasn’t a weekend. It didn’t worry him, though—not until Branson honked his horn to let Jeuel know he was there, and Papa stepped out onto the porch instead. When Papa waved him inside, Branson’s stomach pitted.
Dad and Emory were entertaining the triplets in the living room. Branson followed Papa into the dining room, where Jeuel and Tarius were waiting, seated on the same side of the table. Tarius’s expression was neutral, but Jeuel was tearing a paper napkin into small pieces, and he didn’t look up when Branson walked in.
“What’s wrong?” Branson asked Papa. “Did Mr. Paxton call you?”
“Yes, about an hour ago,” Papa replied. He waved at the table, but Branson preferred to stand behind Tarius and Jeuel. Papa stood across from them, hands in the pockets of his slacks. “He was giving me an update on the case when he had to take another call.”
“What’s the update?”
“The head prosecutor made an offer to the defense team, and they took the deal. There won’t be a trial.”
Jeuel’s face went bright red, and Branson couldn’t decipher the emotion.
Papa explained the charges and that the five men arrested for entering the Alder house and discharging their weapons would serve sentences of fifteen to thirty years. “I know it doesn’t seem like enough, not for what you’ve lost,” Papa said directly to Jeuel. “But they are going away.”
Jeuel kept shredding his napkin.
“But why the plea deal?” Branson asked. “I thought they had a ton of evidence? Home surveillance videos, the weapons used. The constables were on-scene within minutes of the carnage. I don’t get it.”
“Paxton didn’t have all the details, since he’s not part of the prosecution or the defense, but he heard rumors that some of the evidence was tampered with and thrown out by the judge. It was a big risk for the prosecutor to take the case to trial without it. And since Sonora is one of only four provinces that still has the death penalty, the defense avoided capital murder.”
Branson’s chest burned with disappointment. Jeuel and Trei deserved a public trial. They deserved to see the men who’d destroyed their family prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law and spend the rest of their lives behind bars. But that wasn’t his call. It was between the lawyers.
He squatted next to Jeuel’s chair and rested a hand on his thigh. “How do you feel about this?”
“Does it matter how I feel?” Jeuel snapped without turning his head away from the paper scraps in front of him. “They made the decision. I never get a say.”
His heart hurt for the grief in Jeuel’s voice.
“Sometimes justice doesn’t work the way we want it to,” Papa said, his deep voice gentling into the tone he used when speakingto one of his own distressed kids. “I’ve been a lawyer long enough to know that. I’ve lost cases, and I’ve had to give clients terrible news. But those men are going to serve time, Jeuel. You will be well into living your life before any of them are even up for parole.”
Jeuel shrugged and hung his head lower. Papa frowned, clearly unhappy at not being able to console Jeuel. Branson wasn’t sure what to say, either, and he glanced past Jeuel to Tarius. Tarius offered him a sympathetic smile and soft shrug. They couldn’t police Jeuel’s feelings on this; he had every right to be angry. Branson’s only consolation was that Jeuel was thousands of miles away from those men. There was no chance of him going off on a rogue revenge mission.
“At least now there’s a conclusion to this,” Tarius said, mostly to Jeuel. “You don’t have to wait through months of pre-trial motions, jury selection, and then the actual trial. Waiting for the verdict, and then more weeks of waiting for sentencing. Youknownow.”
“I guess,” Jeuel said to his lap. “Do I, um, have to do anything?”
“No,” Papa replied. “All of your statements were used as part of the deal-making process, so they’re part of the official record. Trei’s, too.”
Jeuel’s upper body flinched. “Trei’s going to be mad. They murdered his mate. He won’t get to hear a jury say ‘Guilty’.”
“I know. I called Liam before I came home. He and Trei were out together, so I didn’t want to disturb their afternoon. I’ll tell him in person later tonight.”
“Okay. Can I come?”
“Of course. We can go together?” Papa directed the question at Branson. Branson nodded his permission. He wasn’t an overbearing guardian, and Jeuel was closer to eighteen thanseventeen now. He was nearly an adult who could make his own decisions. Jeuel needed to be with his other brother tonight.
“There’s something else,” Papa continued. He slid into the chair across from Jeuel and seemed to hunch. Not good. “The call Mr. Paxton received during our conversation was from the hospital administration. He’s the legal contact point in Sonora regarding Charles Alder’s condition.”
Jeuel’s head snapped up. “Father’s awake?”
“No, son, he’s not. In fact, his specialist says he’s taken a turn for the worst. There is now zero detectable brain function. I’m so sorry, Jeuel, but the machines are the only things keeping your sire alive.”
“But…” Jeuel’s chin trembled, and he stared across the table at Papa, his wide eyes going liquid. “They…they’re sure?”
“Yes. I am so sorry to have to tell you this, son. But as the next of kin, the hospital needs your guardian’s permission to turn off life support.”
Branson’s heart beat faster, and his chest hurt when Jeuel twisted in his chair to look at him. Jeuel grabbed his hands and squeezed them hard, tears slipping down both cheeks. “Please, don’t tell them to kill our sire, not yet, please,” Jeuel begged. “I want to see him.”
