Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4 — The Glass Wall
The county jail smelled of bleach and stale sweat.
It was a stark contrast to the grand ballrooms and luxury boutiques Vivian Whitmore was used to.
I sat in the hard plastic chair, separated from the inmate holding area by a thick sheet of reinforced glass.
Ethan had begged me not to come.
He said I needed to rest. He said she didn't deserve my time.
But I needed this.
I needed to look the monster in the eye while I held all the cards.
The heavy steel door clicked open on the other side of the glass.
Two guards escorted her in.
Vivian wore an orange jumpsuit that hung loosely on her thin frame.
Her perfect hair was tangled and dull. Her makeup was gone, revealing the deep, harsh lines of a bitter, aging woman.
But her posture was exactly the same.
Arrogant. Defiant.
She sat down in the chair across from me and picked up the heavy black telephone.
I picked up mine.
“You look terrible,” Vivian sneered through the receiver.
No remorse. No guilt.
Just the same venom she had always carried.
“I’ve looked better,” I replied calmly. “But I’m alive.”
Vivian rolled her eyes.
“Such a dramatic little thing. You always were. Playing the victim.”
“I’m not playing anything, Vivian. I’m here to tell you how this ends.”
I unzipped my purse and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
I pressed it flat against the reinforced glass.
It was the toxicology report.
Her eyes flicked down to the paper.
For a fraction of a second, the mask slipped. I saw a flash of genuine panic.
“We found the vials in your study,” I said softly.
“We found the offshore receipts.”
“And we found Arthur Vance.”
Vivian’s breath hitched. Her hand tightened around the phone receiver.
“Arthur told the District Attorney everything, Vivian.”
“He gave them the ledgers. The bank transfers. The fake charities.”
“He told them how you panicked when I announced the pregnancy.”
“He’s testifying against you for full immunity.”
Her face turned a sickly shade of gray.
The defiance melted away, replaced by pure, desperate terror.
“He’s lying,” she hissed, her voice trembling. “Arthur is a rat. He stole that money!”
“Ethan froze the accounts, Vivian.”
I ignored her lie. I kept my voice perfectly level.
“There is no bail money coming. There are no expensive defense lawyers on retainer.”
“The public defender they assigned you is completely overwhelmed.”
“You have absolutely nothing.”
Vivian stared at me, her chest heaving.
The reality of her situation was finally crashing down on her.
The grand society queen, reduced to a number in a concrete box.
“I did it for my son,” she suddenly wept, trying to force tears into her eyes.
“You were ruining him! You were common! You didn't belong in our world!”
I leaned closer to the glass.
“Your world is a lie, Vivian. It’s bankrupt. It’s hollow.”
“And Ethan? He doesn't want to see you. Ever again.”
“He told the guards to permanently remove his name from your visitor list.”
Her mouth opened in a silent scream.
She dropped the phone and slammed her hands against the glass, weeping, begging, shouting words I couldn’t hear through the soundproof barrier.
I didn't flinch.
I didn't smile.
I just hung up the phone.
I stood up, picked up my cane, and turned my back on her.
May you like
The sound of her fists pounding against the glass echoed faintly behind me as I walked toward the exit.
It sounded exactly like a bird trapped in a cage.
