Chapter 8 - The Prodigal Snake
Twenty-four hours later, I sat in a private attorney consultation room at the Cook County Jail.
The heavy steel door clicked open, and a guard escorted Michael inside. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit, his hands cuffed at the waist. His hair was messy, his eyes hollow and dark.
He sat down across from me at the metal table, sobbing quietly.
"Dad..." Michael choked out through his tears. "Please... you have to get me out of here. The bail is set at one million dollars each. The public defender says I'm facing three to five years in state prison."
"I know," I said calmly. "I was the one who asked the District Attorney not to lower the bail."
Michael gasped, leaning forward against his cuffs. "Dad! Why?! I'm your son! Your only child!"
"My son died in that bridal corridor," I replied, my voice steady and cold. "The man sitting across from me is just a cowardly stranger who helped abuse my wife."
"It was Cassandra!" Michael yelled, his face contorting in desperation. "She forced me! She threatened to leave me if I didn't stand by her! She said Mom was embarrassing her family! She brainwashed me, Dad!"
"Cassandra didn't put her hands on your mother's arm, Michael," I said. "Cassandra didn't shove her into an oak wall. You did that all on your own because you valued a sociopath’s approval more than your mother's dignity."
Michael buried his face in his cuffed hands, his shoulders heaving as he wept hysterically. "What do you want from me, Dad? What do I have to do?! I'll plead guilty! I'll go to rehab! I'll apologize to Mom on my knees!"
"You will never touch her again," I said, standing up from the metal chair. "You will never speak her name again. Today, my legal team filed papers to formally sever all trust arrangements. Your inheritance has been permanently revoked."
Michael looked up, his eyes wide with sheer, terrified disbelief. "You're... you're disowning me?"
"No," I corrected him softly, reaching for my coat. "You disowned yourself the second you let her shoe sit in the dirt."
I turned my back on him and walked toward the heavy steel exit door.
May you like
"Dad! Don't leave me!" Michael screamed, banging his cuffed hands against the metal table, his cries echoing down the sterile concrete hallway. "Dad! Please! DAD!"
I didn't look back.
