Chapter 7 - A Mother’s Desperation
The county jail visitation room was a depressing gray box.
The air smelled of bleach and despair.
I sat on a hard metal folding chair, separated by a thick pane of bulletproof glass.
I hadn't planned on visiting Sylvia.
But she had called my father’s secure office line twelve times in the past two days, begging for five minutes of my time.
My father told me to ignore her.
But I needed to look her in the eye one last time.
I needed to see the woman who had tried to murder my unborn child face the consequences of her arrogance.
The heavy metal door on the other side of the glass clanked loudly.
A female guard led Sylvia into the small booth.
I almost didn't recognize her.
The perfectly coiffed blonde hair was now a tangled, graying mess.
The designer clothes had been replaced by a stiff, scratchy county uniform.
She looked small.
She looked weak.
Sylvia grabbed the telephone receiver with trembling hands, pressing her face against the glass.
I picked up my end of the phone slowly, keeping my expression entirely blank.
"Anna," she sobbed, tears instantly streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.
"Oh, Anna, please, you have to help me."
I didn't say a word.
"They won't let me out," she cried, her voice cracking with pure panic.
"The food is disgusting."
"The women in here are animals."
"They stole my shoes, Anna."
"You have to tell your father to drop the charges."
I stared at her, feeling absolutely nothing but a cold, clinical detachment.
"You pushed a pregnant woman into a granite counter," I said evenly.
"You laughed when I lay bleeding on your kitchen floor."
Sylvia shook her head frantically, smearing tears across the dirty glass.
"It was an accident!" she pleaded.
"I just wanted you to sit down!"
"I tripped!"
"You know I would never intentionally hurt my own grandchild!"
"Stop lying, Sylvia," I cut her off, my voice sharp enough to slice through steel.
"I found the offshore accounts."
"I found the emails between David and the divorce lawyers."
Sylvia froze.
The pathetic, sobbing act vanished instantly, replaced by a look of sheer, unadulterated terror.
"You both planned to ruin me," I stated calmly.
"You planned to steal the money, paint me as a lunatic, and leave me with nothing."
"But you made one fatal miscalculation."
I leaned closer to the glass, making sure she could see the absolute resolve in my eyes.
"You forgot that you are mediocre."
"You are a small, vicious woman who raised a small, vicious son."
"And you tried to play a game against a family that writes the rules."
"Anna, please," Sylvia whispered, her voice dropping to a terrified rasp.
"I'll do anything."
"I'll sign over everything."
"Just don't let them send me to prison."
I stood up, gently resting my hand on my stomach.
"You don't have anything left to sign over, Sylvia," I replied.
"The federal government seized it all this morning."
"Your house, your cars, your hidden accounts."
"You are completely bankrupt."
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I hung the receiver back on the wall hook.
I didn't look back as her screams echoed through the thick glass, muffled and pathetic, as the guards dragged her back to her cell.
