Chapter 9 - The Final Appeal
A month later, I received a request for a visitor pass at the King County Correctional Facility. My mother wanted to see me.
Against Vance Sterling’s advice, I went.
I sat in the cold, sterile visitation room, separated from Eleanor Mercer by a thick pane of bulletproof glass. She sat on the other side, wearing an orange jumpsuit, looking smaller, broken, and completely defeated.
Cole was facing twelve years in state prison for attempted murder and embezzlement. Tessa had filed for divorce and fled the state to avoid being named as a co-conspirator. My father was living in a state-funded care facility, his mind fading into dementia, unable to recognize the family he had destroyed.
"Evan..." Mom whispered into the phone receiver. "Thank you for coming."
I held my receiver to my ear, remaining silent.
"Please," she sobbed, pressing her hand against the glass. "You have to drop the charges against Cole. He won't survive in prison. He's your brother... he's my boy..."
"He tried to run me down with a truck, Eleanor," I said flatly. "He tried to kill me."
"He was angry! He wasn't thinking!" she begged. "If you just tell the prosecutor it was a misunderstanding... we will leave Seattle forever. We'll never bother you again! I swear it!"
I looked at the woman who had stood by while her favorite son beat me in a kitchen ten years ago. The woman who had picked up a blue ceramic coffee mug and turned her back while I bled on the floor.
"Do you remember the night you threw me out?" I asked quietly.
She blinked, confused. "What... what night?"
"You don't even remember," I smiled softly, a sad, bitter smile. "Ten years ago, Cole hit me over a coffee mug. You told me I brought dark energy into your house. You told me to leave before Cole called the police."
"Evan, I... I was just trying to keep the peace—"
"No," I interrupted. "You were choosing your favorite child. And today, I am choosing myself."
May you like
I set the receiver down on its cradle.
Mom beat her hands against the glass, screaming my name, her voice muffled and distant behind the thick barrier. I turned my back on her, straightened my jacket, and walked out of the visitor room without looking back.
