Suicide victims’ families confront Ontario poison seller Kenneth Law — ‘I cannot stop thinking that my little girl will never come back’ - Toronto Star

“You may one day regain your freedom, Mr. Law, but you will never erase the consequences of what you did.”

Leonardo Bedoya Forero and Maria Lopez, parents of Jeshennia Bedoya-Lopez, speak to the media at Law’s sentencing hearing in Newmarket on Wednesday.

Leonardo Bedoya Forero strives to cling to joyous memories of his daughter, Jeshennia Bedoya-Lopez. The celebrations, the milestones, the ordinary days.

But no matter how hard he tries, there’s an image he can’t escape — finding her pale and cold body after she died by suicide on Sept. 10, 2022.

On Wednesday, Bedoya Forero was one of more than a dozen family members, including some who travelled from the United Kingdom, who spoke on the first day of sentencing hearings for Kenneth Law, the 61-year-old Mississauga poison seller who has pleaded guilty to 14 counts of assisting suicide.

The packed Newmarket courthouse was awash with a tidal wave of tears and subdued sobs as family members told stories of discovering the deaths of their children and siblings. They spoke of having to take medication for depression and other medical conditions, losing their jobs due to stress and their struggles with daily tasks.

Law was initially charged with 14 counts of first-degree murder in a case with vast international implications. The true number of deaths connected to Law may never be known — an agreed statement of facts says he sent 1,209 packages containing a food additive that can be lethal in certain doses, as well as other materials used for self-harm, to more than 40 countries.

Law has also taken responsibility for 79 deaths connected to him by British authorities, although it’s still unclear how that will affect his sentence.

Adrienne Dalli, sister of Maurizio Vadala.

Maria Lopez, seated in the back of the courtroom with husband Bedoya Forero, said she now suffers from panic attacks.

“I cannot stop thinking that my little girl will never come back … I do not understand how there can be people like this who decide over life, who break the laws, who take from us what we love most,” Lopez said, adding that she and her husband were only entitled to two government-funded therapy sessions.

The family, whose victim-impact statements were read by a prosecutor because they’re not fluent in English, described how they came to Canada from Colombia 11 years ago. Jeshennia, their only child, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and was on medication for depression.

The family has scraped by financially since her death and at times learned more information about the proceedings from media reports than from authorities. They applied for refugee status five years ago, but that was stalled due to the court proceedings. They have no other family in Canada.

They no longer travel for vacations — they only make the 16-hour drive to visit their daughter’s scattered ashes in Thunder Bay, a place they said brought her peace.

“We live side by side, carrying the same absence, trying to hold each other up with hands that also tremble,” Bedoya Forero said.

“I’m afraid of losing my wife under the weight of this grief, and I’m afraid of losing myself in it too.”

Most of the family members who spoke Wednesday said their loved ones were struggling when Law sold them poisons via his websites, which operated under the guise of selling cooking materials and industrial equipment.

Adrienne Dalli spoke of her brother Maurizio Vadala, who died by suicide at age 36. Dalli said she contacted Peel police upon discovering packaging for a poisonous substance in the home, and followed a digital paper trail that led her to websites Law operated.

The family of Stephen Mitchell Jr. — from left to right, Elena Kastoras, her partner Ethan Mitchell, Latha Mitchell and Stephen Mitchell Sr. — hold Stephen’s photo outside the court.

“It’s devastating to know that during one of the most vulnerable periods in his life, (Maurizio) encountered guidance towards death instead of support, protection or intervention,” she said.

She described her brother as a man with a deep laugh, a strong presence and a way of making people “truly feel heard.”

Now grief follows her everywhere, sometimes making the simplest tasks overwhelming.

“Maurizio’s legacy is that he loved his family and friends fiercely, and he was loved just as fiercely in return,” Dalli said. “Maurizio mattered, and he should still be here.”