Chapter 17
Vale’s trial was the hardest.
More women came.
More files opened.
More forged consent forms appeared.
My mother testified about being nineteen and scared.
I testified about being deceived.
Other women testified about pills, injections, procedures, lies.
Vale sat calm at first.
Then the evidence piled higher than his reputation.
His lawyer called the cases misunderstandings.
The prosecutor called them violations.
I called them theft of choice.
When I took the stand, Vale finally looked at me.
I felt nothing but cold disgust.
“You signed my affidavit without examining me,” I said.
His lawyer objected.
The judge told me to answer only questions.
The prosecutor asked, “Did you ever consent to Dr. Vale providing reproductive material?”
“No.”
“Did you ever consent to Diane receiving guardianship of your child?”
“No.”
“Did you ever consent to being described as mentally unstable?”
“No.”
Each no felt like reclaiming a piece of myself.
Vale was convicted on multiple counts, including reproductive assault, fraud, forgery, and conspiracy.
His medical license was permanently revoked.
At sentencing, the judge called him “a predator in a position of trust.”
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He died in prison years later.
But his power died the day the jury believed us.
