Chapter 15 - The Glass Walls
The Federal Detention Center in SeaTac was a cold structure of gray concrete and reinforced glass.
Three days after his arrest, I sat in a small visitor room, separated from the main holding area by a three-inch-thick pane of bulletproof glass. On the other side sat Robert, wearing an orange jumpsuit, his wrists bound by a belly chain. His silver hair had been trimmed short, his gold-rimmed glasses replaced by cheap state-issued frames.
He picked up the black plastic phone receiver. I picked up mine.
"You came," he said, his voice flat, devoid of the theatrical fury from the gala.
"I came to deliver the final papers, Robert," I said.
I pressed a copy of the finalized asset-forfeiture agreement against the glass.
"The federal court approved the global settlement this morning," I explained through the phone. "All offshore accounts linked to Vance and Thorne Medical have been seized. Thirty-five million dollars has been placed into a permanent, court-administered irrevocable trust. The interest from that trust will fund Maya’s medical expenses for the rest of her life, and the remainder will provide medical grants to the other seven children who were subjected to Vance's trials."
Robert looked at the document, a bitter, hollow smile touching his lips. "You took everything. My company, my money, my reputation, my daughter."
"You threw those things away, Robert," I corrected him gently. "I just picked up the pieces you broke."
He leaned closer to the glass, his breath fogging the clear surface. "How is she?"
"She’s happy," I said. "Her latest blood panels came back yesterday. The natural antibody count is stable. Dr. Sterling says she is in complete, sustained remission. She doesn't need any more experimental treatments. She just needs time to grow up."
Robert closed his eyes, a single tear cutting through the dust on his cheek. "Does she ask about me?"
I looked at him through the glass. I could have lied. I could have given him a comforting illusion to carry into his prison cell. But he had built his whole life on convenient lies, and I owed my daughter the absolute truth.
"She asked me once, on the night after you were arrested," I said quietly. "She asked if you were going to be cold in prison. And then she went back to her homework. She’s moving forward, Robert. We both are."
May you like
Robert sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of his reality finally settling onto his narrow shoulders. He set the phone receiver down on the metal hook, turned around slowly, and allowed the guard to lead him back down the long, gray hallway into the dark.
I hung up my receiver, stood up, and walked out through the heavy steel security doors, stepping into the bright, clean afternoon sunlight.
