INTERLUDE

Pedro Martinez’s trial for first-degree murder is scheduled to go first. Ivy and Janeth’s trial will follow, with the two women being tried together. Janeth’s attorney is deeply invested in her case and spends time preparing with her; Ivy’s attorney is, as usual, MIA. Ivy’s trauma has resulted in her ignoring everything that is going on; she is in complete denial.

But Janeth isn’t. From the time she was arrested, Janeth began making plans for her baby girl, Angelina, just in case things went the wrong way and she was found guilty. Through the years of abuse and abandonment Janeth has experienced, Angelina has been her true north. Her daughter is her primary concern, and she openly admits, “I shoulda been home with my little girl. I shouldn’t have been out. I’ve been acting just like my mother. Not all the way—my mother didn’t take care of me. I’m gonna take care of Angelina, even if I get locked up for a long time. I’m not leaving her all alone—the way my mother left me.” Before the trial starts, she asks Adela to adopt her daughter if things don’t go well. She wants Angelina to have a good life. “I trust you,” she tells Adela, “because I see how you’re raising your own daughter.”

Adela reassures her that she’d take the baby in a heartbeat, but Myra, the paternal grandmother, also wants Angelina. Janeth feels overwhelmed, crying, “I just know my mother-in-law is gonna keep me away from her. I’ve been calling over there and she won’t take my calls.” When another woman from the café reaches out to Myra, Myra hangs up on her after saying, “I don’t wanna talk to any gang members.” Myra thinks she will retain custody of Angelina even though DCFS is carefully investigating whether she can provide a “good enough” home for Angelina. Both of her sons are in prison, locked up for committing violent crimes. “I’ve had enough things happen to me,” Janeth tells Adela. “You don’t know what my mother did to me. I don’t want anything like that to happen to Angelina. Ever.”

Pedro’s trial is over in three days. The jury spends very little time deliberating. The verdict comes down swiftly: guilty on all counts. He is sentenced to “100 years to life in prison”—the equivalent of life without the possibility of parole. No one is surprised. Sadly, everyone at Homeboy, at the Homegirl Café, and in the community, all agree that Pedro was guilty of more than murder. He abused Ivy, adding to the trauma she’d experienced in her life. In so many ways, he’d failed to protect Ivy; he’d failed to be a man.

“At the trial,” Adela remembers, “Pedro took no responsibility—he was just sitting there, just quiet, staring into space. He didn’t look at Ivy or Janeth; he didn’t talk to his lawyer. He sat there with no remorse, no nothing. I think if he would have said, ‘I did it and I’ll carry the weight; let’s make a deal,’ then those girls would have got off or gotten a lighter sentence. But he wasn’t a man. The girls wouldn’t snitch and say what he’d done. Ivy wouldn’t talk about what he’d done to her. It was bad all around.”

This is all especially painful for Ivy. This is exactly what happened when she went to prison the first time, for drug distribution. Her boyfriend wouldn’t take the weight; he wouldn’t say Ivy had nothing to do with it. In reality, she’d had nothing to do with the crime she was sentenced for; she’d only been along for the ride. Ivy can’t believe the same thing is happening to her again.

Two weeks later, Ivy and Janeth’s trial begins. Ivy’s lawyer dozes off while Janeth’s alternate public defender does a remarkable job, arguing that Janeth was in the kill zone, that she didn’t want to shoot anyone and was actually in danger herself when Pedro started shooting. After a month, both sides rest their cases. The jury deliberates for a week and can’t reach a verdict. The judge announces a hung jury. There will be another trial.