Chapter 6 - The Glass Barrier
The visitation room at the county jail smelled of bleach and old concrete. Carmen sat behind a thick pane of bulletproof glass, wearing an orange jumpsuit that clashed violently with her fake, fragile persona. Her hair was unkempt, and her face was twisted into an expression of desperate fury.
As soon as I sat down and picked up the plastic telephone receiver, she slammed her hands against the glass.
"Zayden! Thank God!" she wailed into the receiver. "You have to tell these barbaric police officers to let me out! They treated me like a criminal! They took my medication! My knees are aching, Zayden! You need to call our lawyer right now!"
I held the receiver to my ear, watching her throw her dramatic tantrum. I didn't interrupt her. I let her scream, sob, and complain for three full minutes until she finally ran out of breath.
"Are you finished?" I asked quietly.
Carmen blinked, taken aback by my lack of emotion. "Zayden... what is wrong with you? I am your mother! I carried you for nine months! I sacrificed everything for you!"
"You didn't carry me," I said, every word dripping with icy clarity. "Elena Vance carried me. You stole me from a hospital nursery in Chicago thirty-four years ago."
Carmen’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in genuine horror as the color drained completely from her face. The trembling hands that had spent decades lying to me suddenly began to shake uncontrollably.
"How... how do you..." she stammered, her voice dropping three octaves into a dark, rasping whisper.
"We found the locked drawer, Carmen," I said. "We found the forged birth certificate. We found the liquid sedatives you used to poison my wife. We found the caustic chemical cleaner you forced my five-year-old child to sink her hands into."
Carmen’s frantic expression slowly melted away. The fake, loving mother persona evaporated completely, replaced by a cold, calculating sneer that I had never seen before in my life.
"You ungrateful little brat," she hissed into the phone, her voice dripping with pure venom. "I saved you! Elena Vance was a nineteen-year-old penniless addict who didn't even want you! I gave you a life! I made you into a successful man! You owe me everything you have!"
"I owe you nothing," I replied softly. "And you will never see my face, my wife's face, or my daughter's face ever again."
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"I will tear your life apart!" Carmen screamed, banging her fists against the glass until the guards stepped forward to restrain her. "You think you can survive without me?! I have documents! I have bank accounts in your name! I will drag you down with me!"
I hung up the phone, stood up from the stool, and walked out without looking back once.
