Chapter 8 - THE PRISON VISITOR
Two weeks later, I received an official request from the San Diego County Sheriff's Department.
Raymond wanted to see me.
Against Arthur’s advice, I agreed to go. I didn't go out of anger, or spite, or a desire to gloat. I went because I needed to close the book on sixteen years of my life completely.
The visitor room at the detention facility was cold, sterile, and smelled faintly of floor wax and industrial bleach. I sat on one side of a thick glass partition, waiting.
A heavy metal door clicked open, and Raymond was led inside by a guard.
He looked unrecognizable. The sharp suits, tailored shirts, and gold watch were gone, replaced by a drab blue prison jumpsuit. His hair was messy, dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, and he walked with a slight, defeated stoop.
He sat down on the metal stool across from me and picked up the gray plastic phone handset. I picked up mine.
"Brenda," his voice rasped through the speaker.
"Raymond," I said calmly.
He stared at me through the glass, searching my face for any sign of the compliant, peace-keeping wife he had known for sixteen years. He found none.
"My lawyer says you refused to approve a corporate settlement," Raymond said, his voice trembling with desperation. "Brenda, if I go to trial, I’m looking at twelve years. Twelve years!"
"You forged my signature, Raymond," I reminded him quietly. "You stole nearly two million dollars from the business I built. You used that money to pay off your brother’s debts, buy gifts for your mistress, and bribe a doctor to fake a DNA test."
Raymond squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. "I was trapped, Brenda! You don't know what it was like growing up with my mother! All she ever talked about was a male heir! Every day of my life, she made me feel like a failure because I couldn't live up to her standards! When Brenda Vance told me she was pregnant, I saw a way out! I thought if I gave my mother what she wanted, she’d finally get off my back!"
"So you decided to destroy your wife and four daughters instead?" I asked, my voice deadly quiet.
Raymond opened his eyes, looking at me with a pathetic, pleading expression. "I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. But please, Brenda... for the sake of our past, don't let them ruin my life. Talk to the DA. Tell them we settled it internally. I'll sign over my shares to you! I'll give you everything!"
"I already have your shares, Raymond," I said flatly. "And you have nothing left to give."
Raymond froze. "What?"
"Under the corporate charter, your conviction automatically forfeits your equity," I explained calmly. "Your shares are being liquidated to pay back the funds you embezzled. What remains is being transferred directly into an irrevocable trust for Gaby, Paige, Maya, and Zoey."
Raymond’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"And as for your mother," I continued, "she has moved out of the La Jolla house. Arthur exercised Walter’s conservatorship to sell the estate to pay for Walter’s full-time specialized memory care facility in Carlsbad. Florence is currently living in a small one-bedroom apartment in Chula Vista."
Raymond slumped against the counter, looking completely crushed. "My family... everything is gone."
"No, Raymond," I corrected him, looking him straight in the eyes. "Your family was right in front of you for sixteen years. You had four brilliant, beautiful daughters who loved you. You had a wife who built an empire for you. But you threw us away because we didn't fit into your mother's toxic fantasy."
I stood up from the stool, holding the plastic handset in my hand.
May you like
"Don't ever contact me again, Raymond," I said softly. "And don't bother looking for the girls. They know everything. And none of them wish to see you."
I hung up the phone, turned my back on him, and walked out of the visitor room as Raymond began to weep behind the glass.
