“Thank you for coming today,” the judge said, her tone distinctly warmer than it had been when addressing Nat or her counsel. “Please state your name for the court.”

“My name is Celeste Bernier.” She spelled it for the court reporter.

The judge said, “You may read your statement, when you’re ready.”

Celeste began.

“On May twentieth, I lost my husband of twenty-nine years, and my daughter lost her father. Our lives will not be the same without him, and we may never fully recover from the violence that was perpetrated on our family. Gabe Turnmill was my partner, my provider, my coparent. But I now believe he was also a sociopath.”

Nat’s head jerked up. Had she heard Celeste correctly?

“The man I married twenty-nine years ago ceased to exist. I’m not sure when or why, but at some point, Gabriel Turnmill stopped being a loving husband, a caring father, and a kind, honest man. He became adulterous, duplicitous, and cruel.”

Incredulous murmurs rippled through the courtroom. Nat didn’t move, didn’t turn her head, barely breathed. If she did, reality might come crashing into this dream.

“My husband paid Natalie Murphy a significant allowance for a romantic and sexual relationship. He made her believe that he was single and available; that he truly cared for her. And then, he abruptly cut her off: physically, emotionally, and financially.

“When Ms. Murphy learned about her lover’s betrayal, I don’t believe she had the emotional or mental maturity to handle it appropriately. She lashed out in a childish, obsessive manner. She became a nuisance, a threat to Gabe Turnmill’s reputation, his relationship with his daughter, and, indeed, our marriage. So my husband hired someone to kill her. But it was he who ended up dead.”

Celeste paused then—for breath or effect—then continued.

“I don’t know Natalie Murphy, but she appears to be insecure, naive, and emotionally fragile. I suspect a personality disorder and alcohol abuse. While I abhor violence in any form, and do not condone her actions, I feel that Ms. Murphy’s greatest crime was falling in love with a manipulative, narcissistic man thirty years her senior. In a way, she is a victim here, too.”

Natalie’s emotions churned: shame, incredulity, and a glimmer of optimism. Celeste was trying to save her.

“My daughter and I do not believe that Ms. Murphy should be incarcerated for her actions. We feel that justice would be better served by offering this defendant the psychological counseling and support she needs, so she can heal and go on to be a functional, contributing member of society.”

The tall, confident woman folded her papers and then leaned into the microphone. “I thank the court for its time.”

And with that, Celeste left the room.

56

The Gift

Natalie Murphy was sentenced to a year in jail plus three years of probation, during which she would be prohibited from drinking alcohol and receive mandatory weekly psychological counseling. Despite the recommendations of the prosecution and parole board, Judge Amanda Wollner suspended the sentence. This meant that Nat was free. If she followed the rules and stayed out of trouble, she would remain so.