In December, Shane Thrasher pled guilty to first-degree manslaughter, among other charges, and was sentenced to twenty-five years in jail, with the possibility of parole. In exchange for his plea, he testified about the work he’d done for Cecil Armstrong for four years. He was on the stand for six days.

Almost a year later, Cecil Armstrong was convicted of racketeering, bribing officials and conspiracy to commit murder, among other charges. He was sentenced to thirty-five years in prison without the possibility of parole, which, given the fact that he was seventy-three at the time, amounted to a life sentence. An audit of his books had revealed he’d misappropriated millions of Armstrong Holdings’ funds in his pursuit of beachfront property in the middle of South Dakota. However, he never offered up any justification for his actions.

The only member of the Armstrong family in court that day was Betty Armstrong. She held hands with Emily Mankiller as the sentence was handed down. Both women were escorted from the courtroom by Thomas Yellow Bird and offered no comment to the throngs of reporters waiting outside.

The sensationalist nationwide coverage of the trial led to a measurable uptick of visitors to the Historic Bonneau Homestead and Museum, former headquarters of Armstrong Hydro. The museum’s curator and caretaker, Maria Villerreal, reported that, on average, a hundred visitors a day were coming to listen to her tours. Her sons made pocket money selling homemade cookies and lemonade. On the day her former boss was sentenced, no fewer than thirty reporters crowded the house. Maria gave them all brownies, but not a comment on the trial or her current employers.

Dan Armstrong was too busy to attend the trial, except on days when he was called to testify. He divided his time between Armstrong Petroleum in Witchita Falls, Texas, and Armstrong Hydro in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. At the time of the sentencing, he was busy supervising construction of the Red Creek dam, a run-of-river dam on the Dakota ten miles south of the Red Creek Indian reservation. The Red Creek tribe owned half the dam, and more than half of the workers were members of the tribe. Joe White Thunder was out there with them, swinging a hammer in time like he was beating a drum.

Rosebud Armstrong chose to avoid the lengthy trial entirely. Instead, she focused her efforts on joining an ongoing multitribal lawsuit against the Bureau of Indian Affairs for mismanagement of tribal funds. The case had already made it through the U.S. Court of Appeals on its way to the Supreme Court, where Rosebud became the first woman from her tribe to argue—and win—a case before the High Court. She discovered a renewed passion for the law, now that her life no longer depended on the outcome. She began to enjoy herself again.

After that sweeping victory, she took some doctor-ordered time off. On the day they led Cecil away in shackles, she sat in the nursery of the new ranch house that overlooked the Dakota River and finished Tanner’s baby quilt. Lewis’s was already on the crib. The twins were due in two weeks, but given how much they kicked, she hadn’t been sure she’d make it. At first, the bed rest had driven her nuts. But she’d taken up her needle and thread again, rediscovering a part of her that she’d thought she’d lost.

She was happy here in this new home built on neutral territory, just Dan and Rosebud. Her family was close by, and they made frequent trips to Texas. It had become all she’d ever wanted.

Soon enough, though, it would be Dan and Rosebud and Tanner and Lewis.

She was more than happy here.

She was home.