CHAPTER 13: THE PRISON MANDATE
CHAPTER 13: THE PRISON MANDATE
The visitation room at the maximum-security facility was freezing.
A thick pane of reinforced glass separated me from the man who had spent my entire life teaching me that I was never enough. He wore an orange jumpsuit, his hair messy, his hands liver-spotted and frail.
But when he picked up the gray telephone receiver, the old, arrogant light was still dancing in his eyes.
“You look tired, Evelyn,” he sneered through the static.
“Did Marcus Sterling find your little paradise in the woods?”
I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles turned entirely white.
“You gave him the coordinates,” I said, my voice dropping into a deadly whisper.
He let out a dry, rattling laugh that made my stomach twist.
“Marcus has connections on the state rehabilitation board,” he confessed.
“He promised to fast-track my medical leave appeal,” he explained.
“All he wanted in exchange was the location of your grandfather’s deep corporate archive,” he revealed.
“The ledger books you used to humiliate me in that courtroom.”
I leaned closer to the glass, my breathing controlled, my expression turning entirely to stone.
“Those files are already in the hands of the federal prosecutors, Dad,” I said.
“Marcus Sterling can't save you from a federal grand jury.”
The smile instantly vanished from his ruined face.
“He doesn't want to save me, Evelyn,” he whispered, his eyes widening with a sudden, genuine panic.
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“He wants to destroy the evidence before they raid his offices.”
“And you are sitting right on top of the vault.”
