Chapter 3: The Cold Cell
Chapter 3: The Cold Cell
In the county jail's holding cell, the reality of their situation was finally sinking in for Margaret and Vanessa. The luxury silk robe had been replaced by a rough, orange jumpsuit.
When Marcus and I walked into the visitation room later that morning, Margaret slammed her hands against the glass divider. "Daniel! You order those guards to let us out right now! Vanessa is having a panic attack! This place is filthy!"
"You'll get used to it," I said, sitting down calmly. "You're going to be here for a very long time."
"We are family!" Vanessa screamed, her voice hoarse. "You're ruining our lives over that pathetic girl! She’s nothing! A nobody from the countryside!"
"That 'nobody' is my wife, and the mother of my son," I said, my voice cutting through her hysterics like a knife. "And because of what you did to her, I am enforcing the full weight of the law."
Marcus pushed a legal document against the glass. "Margaret, this is the official revocation of your stipend from the Vance Family Trust. As of 8:00 AM today, you are completely disinherited. The trust will no longer pay for your lawyers, your debts, or your lifestyle."
Margaret’s face turned white. "You can't do that! My father set that trust up for me!"
"No," Marcus corrected sternly. "Your father set it up for his descendants who honor the family name. You are a criminal, Margaret. The trust board voted unanimously this morning to strip you of every penny."
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"Daniel, please," Margaret begged, her tone suddenly changing to a desperate, fake sweetness. "I made a mistake. I was stressed. The baby cried all the time... I just wanted to help Claire learn how to be a strong mother."
"You bruised her arms. You starved my son," I said, standing up and looking down at her with total disgust. "When I was overseas, I fought enemies who had more honor than you. Do not look for me again. From this moment on, you don't have a son."
