Chapter 11 - The Jailhouse Visit
Three days later, I received a formal request from the county detention center. Shawn wanted to see me.
Every instinct in my body screamed to ignore it. But my lawyer, an exceptional woman named Claire whom Anthony had retained on my behalf, advised me to go.
“Go hear what he has to say, Lauren,” Claire told me. “Get him to sign the emergency custody stipulations and the immediate dissolution of marital property while he’s still terrified. The moment he gets comfortable in the system, he’ll get bitter and fight you for every dime.”
At 2:00 PM, I sat behind a thick sheet of plexiglass in the county jail visiting room.
The heavy steel door on the opposite side opened, and Shawn walked in.
He looked unrecognizable. He wore an oversized bright-orange jumpsuit. His hair was greasy and uncombed, dark purple bags hung under his eyes, and his hands were shaking as he picked up the gray plastic telephone receiver.
I picked up mine and pressed it to my ear.
“Lauren,” he croaked. His voice sounded like it had been dragged through broken glass. “Thank you for coming. Please… God, Lauren, you have to help me get out of here.”
“I’m not here to get you out, Shawn,” I said coldly.
He pressed his face close to the glass, tears immediately leaking down his cheeks. “You don’t understand what it’s like in here! They treat me like an animal! Lauren, I’m a lawyer! I don’t belong in a cage with these people!”
“You committed federal felonies, Shawn. You forged my name to rob your brother-in-law. You belong exactly where you are.”
“I did it for my family!” he yelled, slamming his hand against the counter. A guard behind him immediately rested his hand on his baton, and Shawn flinched, shrinking back. “Olivia told me she was going to kill herself!” he whispered frantically. “She came to my office sobbing, holding a bottle of pills! She said if Anthony found out, her life was over! What was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to call a doctor, Shawn,” I said, my voice cutting through his hysterics. “And then you were supposed to call Anthony. But you didn’t do that. You chose to betray me. You chose to risk Maya’s future to protect a narcissistic monster who wouldn’t cross the street to spit on you if you were on fire.”
Shawn stared at me, his mouth trembling. “She’s my sister, Lauren.”
“And Maya is your daughter!” I snapped, my voice rising with an authority that silenced him instantly. “And I was your wife! But you never treated us like your family. We were just your accessories, while Olivia was your priority.”
I slid a blue folder across the counter to the guard, who inspected it and passed it through the slot beneath the plexiglass.
“Those are the uncontested divorce papers, Shawn,” I said. “Full legal and physical custody of Maya to me. The house goes to me. You surrender your claims on my father’s trust and all joint savings. In exchange, Anthony has agreed to recommend a suspended sentence on your third-degree conspiracy charge. You won’t do five years. You’ll do eighteen months in a minimum-security facility.”
Shawn looked down at the papers as if they were dipped in venom. “You’re taking everything. You’re taking my daughter.”
“You threw her away when you chose Olivia,” I said, standing up. “Sign the papers, Shawn. Or Anthony submits the rest of the offshore bank records tomorrow, and you do a full decade in federal prison.”
Shawn looked at the papers. He looked at the guard. He looked at me.
May you like
With trembling fingers, he picked up the plastic pen provided by the guard and signed his name on every dotted line.
***
