BREAKING DRAMA: "SHE LEFT AN ENVELOPE ON THE TABLE AND WALKED OUT WITH A SMILE. TEN MINUTES LATER, HER HUSBAND WAS ON HIS KNEES SCREAMING IN DESPAIR!"

The visitor’s room at the Travis County Correctional Complex was cold, sterile, and smelled faintly of bleach.

When Evan was led in by the guard, Claire barely recognized him.

The man who had once worn $5,000 Italian suits and carried himself with unbearable vanity was now wearing an orange jumpsuit. His hair was messy, his eyes were sunken with dark circles, and he had lost significant weight.

He sat down across the glass partition, his hands trembling as he picked up the receiver. Claire picked up hers.

"Claire..." Evan’s voice broke instantly, tears welling in his eyes. "You came. God, Claire... you actually came."

"You have five minutes, Evan," Claire said, her voice completely neutral.

"Claire, I'm so sorry," Evan sobbed, pressing his hand against the glass. "I was a fool! I was blind! My mother... Leah... they manipulated me! They took advantage of my insecurities!"

"Nobody forced you to steal $14 million from the company, Evan," Claire replied calmly. "Nobody forced you to rent a penthouse for your mistress. And nobody forced you to walk into our home with two babies, expecting me to bow down to your mother’s check."

"I was out of my mind!" Evan wept, banging his forehead against the partition. "I thought... I thought I needed an heir to prove I was a real man! I thought if I had sons, my father’s ghost would finally leave me alone! But I was wrong! You were the only person who ever truly cared about me!"

"I cared about the man I thought you were," Claire corrected softly. "The man who worked beside me twelve years ago. But that man died the moment you let your vanity devour your integrity."

"Please, Claire," Evan begged, dropping to his knees on the concrete floor of the visitor box, looking up at her through the glass just as he had on the foyer floor three weeks ago. "Help me. Talk to the prosecutor. Tell them it was a corporate misunderstanding. I’ll sign over everything! I’ll sign a full confession against my mother! Just don't let me spend fifteen years in prison!"

Claire looked down at him. There was no hatred in her eyes. No vengeance. Only a profound, distant pity.

"Do you know why I didn't cry that night, Evan?" Claire asked quietly.

Evan shook his head, tears dripping onto his jumpsuit.

"Because I had already mourned us three months ago," Claire said. "When I found the invoices. When I saw the penthouse lease. I gave you ninety days to come clean to me. Ninety days to show a single shred of honesty. Instead, you brought another woman’s children into our living room and watched your mother offer me money to vanish."

"I was wrong! I was wrong!" Evan cried out.

"Yes, you were," Claire said. She stood up, smoothing her coat. "Your trial starts next month, Evan. I won't be testifying against you. I don't need to. The paper trail speaks for itself."