Chapter 11 - The Jailhouse Beggar
Two weeks after the tarmac arrest, I received an urgent call from the Richmond City Justice Center.
Gavin had filed three emergency inmate visitation requests, begging for an interview with me before his formal federal arraignment.
Against my initial instincts, I agreed to go.
I needed to look my brother in the eyes one last time to close the dark chapter of my life forever.
I sat on the cold metal stool behind the scratched bulletproof glass partition in the maximum-security visiting room.
When the heavy steel door opened, Gavin stumbled inside, escorted by two armed correctional officers.
He looked completely unrecognizable.
His expensive haircut was unkempt, his skin was sallow and covered in razor burn, and the orange prison smock hung loosely over his sunken shoulders.
He picked up the heavy plastic phone receiver with trembling, handcuffed hands, pressing it against his ear.
"Maya... thank God you came," Gavin wept, his voice cracking through the static of the intercom.
"You have to talk to Marcus... you have to tell him to drop the federal charges!"
"They're putting me in a high-security facility in Petersburg with violent cartel members!"
"I'll die in there, Maya! I can't survive prison!"
I looked at him with an expression of total, calm detachment.
"Did you think about whether Mom could survive sleeping on wet cardboard in thirty-degree sleet, Gavin?"
Gavin flinched, pressing his face closer to the glass.
"I made a mistake, okay? I got mixed up with the wrong people in Atlantic City!"
"They threatened to break my legs if I didn't pay them back!"
"I was going to buy Mom an even better condo once the market turned around... I swear to you!"
"Stop lying, Gavin," I said, my voice steady and piercingly clear.
"We found Dad's life insurance records."
"We found the seven other elderly victims whose homes you stole."
"You didn't do this to survive."
"You did this because you are an empty, greedy narcissist who believes other people only exist to be used."
"I'm your brother, Maya!" Gavin screamed, slamming his cuffed fists against the glass.
"We share the same blood!"
"Blood means protecting the people you love," I replied, standing up from the stool.
"You aren't my brother anymore."
May you like
"You are just an inmate waiting for his sentence."
I hung up the plastic receiver and walked out into the sunlight, leaving his frantic screams muffled behind the soundproof glass.
