Chapter 8 - Diane’s Fall from GraceThe federal detention center in Seattle was a cold, concrete fortress overlooking the dark waters of the bay.
I stood in the visiting room, separated from the cell blocks by a thick sheet of reinforced glass. Diane sat across from me, wearing a plain orange jumpsuit, her hair messy, her face looking thin, haggard, and completely drained of life. The elegant high-society matriarch who had once mocked my family had been reduced to a broken prisoner.
"You came," she whispered, her voice raspy and hollow against the glass partition. "I thought you had completely forgotten about me."
"I came to finish the business of this valley, Diane," I said, my voice smooth, cold, and professional. "Sign the transfer documents through the slot. All your remaining assets, including your private estate and your personal bank accounts, are being seized to pay off the federal tax liens and the restitution for Emma's medical bills."
Diane looked at the paper, a bitter, pathetic smile touching her lips. "You took everything, Frank. You left us with nothing."
"You took my daughter’s freedom, Diane," I said, my voice flat and hard. "You took her voice, and you took her safety. I’m just taking back what was always mine."
Her hands shook as she took the pen, her signature scribbled at the bottom of the page. "Caleb... he’s in the general population block, Frank. The other inmates know what he did to Emma. They don't let him sleep. He’s terrified."
May you like
"He should be," I said, standing up and sliding the signed documents into my briefcase. "Because in that block, there are no cousin-sheriffs to protect him. He’s going to spend the next twenty years remembering the night he decided to put his hands on my daughter."
I walked out of the room, not looking back as the heavy steel door slid shut with a loud, final click, locking her away in the dark prison of her own greed.
