Chapter 13 - The Weight of the BarricadeI sat calmly, my hands folded neatly on the metal table, keeping the telephone receiver pressed lightly against my ear.
“You have ten minutes, Jason,” I said, my tone as clinical as a balance sheet. “Make it count. What could you possibly have to say to me that hasn't already been decided by a federal judge?”
Jason stared at me, tears brimming in his bloodshot eyes. He looked like a man drowning in open water, grasping at a straw of driftwood.
“My mother... she visited me last week,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “She told me about... about what she did at the Boston clinic ten years ago. The hormonal blockers. The scarring.”
I didn't flinch. I let the silence hang heavily between us, watching the horror reflect in his eyes.
“And she told you about the twins?” I asked quietly.
Jason flinched as if he had been physically struck. A ragged sob broke from his throat, and he buried his face in his cuffed hands.
“She lied to me,” he wept, the words tumbling out in a broken mess. “Brittany... she’s gone. She fled to Europe with that shipping heir. The DNA tests came back through the prison medical liaison. They’re not my children, Evelyn. I threw away my career, my marriage, my entire life for a lie, and now... I’m rotting in this hellhole while she’s living like a queen in Switzerland.”
“And you expect sympathy?” I asked, leaning slightly forward, my eyes locking onto his.
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“No,” he whispered, looking up, absolute devastation written across his face. “I just... I needed to hear you say it. I ruined everything. You were right about me all along.”
“Yes, Jason, I was,” I replied, standing up and sliding my coat over my shoulders. “You always loved winning arguments, but you never understood the cost of the verdict. Goodbye, Jason. Enjoy your sentence.”
