People have asked me how Snow reacted, and the answer is, she didn’t, by which I mean she didn’t fall down screaming like Keli Lane did, when the same court sent her to prison for the murder of her baby Tegan; she didn’t get all red and swollen in the face and make like she was going to pop, like Robert Farquharson did, when they sentenced him to life for drowning his three boys in the dam in Melbourne; she didn’t turn to the public gallery, trying to get her shouting family to be quiet, like Schapelle Corby did.

She just kept standing, head tipped slightly to the side, the big floppy bow on her collar hanging soft and loose against her blouse. The only sign that she’d even heard what the judge had said was the faintest twitch in the fingertips of her right hand. I wondered what she was thinking. It wasn’t long before I found out.

Chapter Twenty-five

Dear Jack,

You were in court on the day I got sentenced, weren’t you? You saw the judge, with that ridiculous wig on his head, going on and on about what an evil person I was.

I was thinking, ‘Okay, I get it, you’re not happy with me, and obviously you think you could have done better, but Mr Chief Justice Whatever-Your-Name-Is, how exactly did you expect me to take care of nineteen children, if I wasn’t supposed to keep them in their beds all day? Some of them had nothing but a brain stem in their head! Was I supposed to make a small train to pull them all along? Was I supposed to stay up all night, every night, turning this one, and then that one, and then this one, and then that one, putting this one back in its bed, chasing that one down the hall?’

I could see how marvellous everybody else thought the verdict was. The Herald was saying, ‘Oh, Snow showed no remorse as she was led from the court to the van that would take her back to Silverwater.’ What was I supposed to do? Stand up and say, ‘Sorry, everyone!’ I don’t believe I’ve got anything to be sorry about.

So, here I am at Silverwater, planning my appeal like everyone else. You probably know I’ve got a new lawyer? He seems to think I’m in with a good chance, so maybe I’ll be out before you even get this letter!

People are probably thinking, ‘I wonder what she’ll do when she gets out.’ I can tell you, Jack. My plan for when I get out of here is to go straight back to Delaney House.

I won’t be taking any sick kids in. They can be somebody else’s problem. I’m just going to kick back there and relax.

You’re probably thinking, but how can she do that? How can she go back to Delaney House? Simple: because it’s my house!

Mrs Bannerman is dead, remember, and who is the beneficiary of her will? Me!