Celeste arrest was captured outside her office building and unlike my mother, she was crying, mascara streaking down her cheeks as officers guided her into the patrol car. The anchor described the case in broadstrokes. A grandmother accused of deliberately putting her granddaughter in harm’s way. A conspiracy involving inheritance money, a child fighting for her life in the hospital. They didn’t use our names.
The story was still developing, but I knew it was only a matter of time before someone identified us. Caroline arrived an hour later with takeout containers and her laptop. She had been monitoring social media and the story was already spreading. Someone had photographed my mother’s house.
Someone else had found an old family photo and posted it with speculation about our identities. The internet with its infinite hunger for tragedy and scandal was feeding on our pain. You need to prepare, Caroline said gently. Once your name gets out, reporters will come. She was right. The next morning, a journalist from a regional newspaper left a message on my phone asking for comment.
By afternoon, two television vans had parked outside my apartment building. I watched them from the hospital window, grateful that Meline and I were here instead of home. Detective Hong arranged for victims advocacy support, a counselor who specialized in helping families navigate high-profile cases. Her name was Dr. Miriam Costanos, and she became my anchor over the following weeks.
She helped me craft a brief statement for the media, arranged for Meline School to implement privacy protocols, and connected me with an attorney who could advise on the civil implications of the case. My mother and sister were arraigned the day after their arrest. Bail was set at $2 million for my mother and 1 million for Celeste.
My mother posted bail within hours using the equity from her house. Celeste bond was posted by her husband Graham, a man I had always found vaguely spineless but mostly harmless. I wondered what he knew, whether he had been aware of his wife’s platting. Detective Huang assured me he was being investigated. The weeks between the arrest and the trial were their own special torment.
