Chapter 5 - FACE TO FACE WITH THE DEVILThe Confrontation in the CellI walked into the visitation room wearing a high-collared coat that covered the compression bandages wrapping my neck and shoulders. I leaned slightly on a cane, but my posture was straight, my head held high.
Ethan sat across the thick glass divider, looking like a ghost of the arrogant man I had lived with for three years. His hair was greasy, his eyes bloodshot, and he was dressed in an orange jumpsuit.
He picked up the phone. I picked up mine.
“You came,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Sarah... please. You have to tell them the truth. My mother... my mother was the one who bought the thallium! I didn't know! I swear to God I didn't know she was poisoning you!”
I listened to him scramble, throwing his own mother under the bus without a second thought to save his own skin. It was pathetic, yet entirely predictable.
“You knew, Ethan,” I said, my voice razor-sharp over the receiver. “You held my head when I was throwing up blood three months ago. You told me I was just having panic attacks. You watched me lose my balance, lose my hair, lose my memory... and you smiled because you thought every drop brought you closer to my estate.”
“I loved you!” he yelled, tears welling in his eyes. “Sarah, I was confused! The pressure—my mother was controlling me! She forced me!”
“Save it for the jury, Ethan,” I said calmly. “I didn't come here to hear you beg. I came here to tell you what happens next.”
He froze, clutching the phone tightly.
“Your defense fund? Empty,” I said. “The legal fees you tried to pay Richard Hayes were drawn from accounts that have been seized by the federal government under civil asset forfeiture. Mr. Hayes withdrew as your counsel two hours ago.”
Ethan’s breathing hitched. “No... no, he can't do that...”
“You will be assigned a public defender,” I continued, leaning closer to the glass. “The IRS is filing eleven counts of felony tax evasion. The State is filing charges of attempted premeditated murder, conspiracy, and poisoning. You are facing a minimum of forty-five years without the possibility of parole.”
“Sarah... please...” Ethan sobbed, pressing his forehead against the glass. “I’m sorry... I’ll give everything back! The house, the money—”
“The house was never yours,” I interrupted. “The money was never yours. You were nothing more than a parasite who thought he could bleed me dry.”
I stood up, holding my cane firmly.
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“Enjoy the rest of your life in a box, Ethan. It’s far better than you deserve.”
I hung up the phone. As I turned my back on him, he began hammering frantically on the glass, screaming my name until the guards pinned him to the floor. I didn't turn around once.
