Chapter 7 - Behind the Glass
The visitor’s room at the Multnomah County Detention Center smelled of floor wax, stale coffee, and industrial bleach.
I sat on one side of the thick glass partition wearing a tailored navy suit, my hair pulled back into a crisp, professional knot. Across from me, the steel door opened, and two guards led David inside.
I barely recognized him.
The man who had spent thousands of dollars on custom linen shirts and Italian leather shoes was now wearing a baggy orange jumpsuit. His hair was messy, his face pale and unshaven, his eyes rimmed with red, panicked blood vessels. The handcuffs around his wrists clinked loudly against the metal table as he sat down.
He picked up the black plastic telephone receiver with shaking hands.
I picked up mine, holding it to my ear, watching him with total composure.
"Valerie... oh God, Valerie," David sobbed into the receiver, pressing his forehead against the glass. "Thank God you came. You have to help me. Please, you have to tell them this is all a huge misunderstanding! I didn't know Ethan was really sick! I thought... Mom told me you were just panicked!"
"You looked at him, David," I said, my voice echoing clearly through the speaker. "You looked at your three-day-old son whose lips were blue, who couldn't breathe, and you told me I was having a hallucination."
"I was tired! I was stressed!" David pleaded, tears streaming down his hollow cheeks. "Mom was pressuring me! She’s been controlling me my whole life, Val! You know how she is! She forged those wire transfers! She took your phone! I didn't want to leave, I swear! She forced me!"
I listened to him blubber, watching the pathetic display of a man who had never taken accountability for a single choice in his life.
"You took my credit card out of my purse, David," I reminded him quietly. "You put it in your wallet. You kissed Ethan’s forehead and walked out the door while I was bleeding on the floor."
"I was wrong! I’m so sorry! I'll do anything!" David slammed his hand against the glass. "I’ll sign the papers! I’ll give you the house! I’ll give you everything! Just talk to the prosecutor! Tell them I’m a good father who made a mistake! I can't go to federal prison, Val! I won't survive!"
I leaned forward, pressing my face closer to the glass so he could see every line of cold, absolute finality written across my face.
"You are not a father, David," I whispered. "A father protects his child with his life. You left yours to die so you could drink cocktails in Key West."
"Valerie, please!"
"I am not here to negotiate with you," I continued, interrupting his weeping. "I am here to tell you what is going to happen. You are going to sign the custody surrender. You are going to sign the property release. And then you are going to go to trial. And I will sit in the front row of the gallery every single day, holding Ethan in my arms, watching you be sentenced."
"You're a monster!" David screamed, his panic turning into ugly, helpless rage. "You ruined my life! You set us up!"
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"No, David," I said softly, setting the telephone receiver back onto its hook. "You set yourself up. I just recorded it."
I stood up, smoothed my jacket, and walked out of the room without looking back once as David pounded against the glass, screaming my name until the guards forced him to the floor.
