PART 16 — BEHIND THE GLASS
PART 16 — BEHIND THE GLASS
The visiting room at the state penitentiary smelled of floor wax and despair. Emily sat on one side of the plexiglass. I stood by the back wall. Watching. Ethan walked in. He was unrecognizable. The arrogant smirk was gone. His skin was pale, his hair thinning. He picked up the phone. His hands were shaking. “Emily,” he breathed. “You came.” Emily picked up her receiver. She did not smile. She did not frown. She simply looked at him. “Where are the ledgers, Ethan?” He blinked, caught off guard by her tone. “I… I need a lawyer first. I need a contract.” “No,” Emily said flatly. “You called me. You have zero leverage. Brandon is trying to destroy the foundation I built for women like the one you turned me into.” Ethan flinched. “I’m sorry. Emily, I’m so sorry—” “Save it for the parole board,” she interrupted. “The ledgers. Now.” He pressed his forehead against the glass. A broken, pathetic man. “If I give him to you… will you tell the judge I cooperated?” Emily leaned forward. Her voice was pure ice. “If you give him to me, I will make sure Brandon occupies the cell right next to yours. That is all I offer.” Ethan closed his eyes. He had nothing left. “There’s a safety deposit box at First Carolina Bank,” he whispered. “Under my mother’s maiden name. The key is taped behind the portrait of my father in the guest house. The one where you used to stay.” Emily hung up the phone. She stood up. Ethan slammed his hand against the glass. “Emily! Wait!” She didn’t look back. She walked straight to me. “We need to go back to the Prescott estate,” she said. I nodded. We were going into the lion's den.
