Chapter 7 - The Desperate Plea
Z
Two weeks later, I received a formal request from the public defender assigned to Jessica’s case, asking for a meeting at the county courthouse. Marcus advised against going alone, so he accompanied me into the high-security visitor room at the county jail.
When the heavy steel door opened, Jessica walked in, escorted by a female correctional officer. She wore a bright orange jumpsuit, her hair was unwashed and tied in a limp ponytail, and she wore no makeup. The polished, arrogant woman who had stood on my porch fortnight ago had vanished completely. In her place sat a broken, frightened girl.
She sat down across the glass partition, picking up the black phone receiver with hands that shook uncontrollably. I picked up my receiver and placed it to my ear.
"Mom..." Jessica wept, her voice distorted through the electronic speaker. "Mom, please... please help me. You have to get me out of here. It’s horrible in here, Mom. I haven't slept in days. The people here are dangerous."
I looked at her calmly, my hands folded gracefully on the counter. "You chose to enter this place, Jessica, the moment you signed those fraudulent sales documents."
"It was Vincent!" Jessica sobbed frantically, pressing her hand against the thick glass. "He tricked me, Mom! He told me that you had agreed to sell the house! He told me that you wanted to move into a luxury retirement village in Florida and that the power of attorney was just to make the transfer easier! I didn't know he was lying!"
"Jessica," I interrupted, my voice dropping an octave, cold and direct. "I was standing right in front of you on the porch when I returned from Europe. I didn't see a woman who had been tricked. I saw a woman who smiled in my face and told me I was homeless."
Jessica froze, her eyes widening in horror as her own words were thrown back at her.
"You knew exactly what you were doing," I continued. "You thought I was old, foolish, and easily broken. You thought you could throw me out like trash because you assumed I had nowhere else to go and no power to fight back."
"I was desperate, Mom!" she cried out, her tears smearing against the glass. "Vincent’s lenders were threatening to kill him! They were coming to our apartment! They said they were going to break his legs if we didn't give them $200,000! I was trying to save my husband!"
"And you decided to sacrifice your mother to do it," I said flatly. "You chose a man who used you, lied to you, and gambled away your future over the mother who gave you everything."
"Please, Mom..." she whispered, dropping her head onto the steel counter, her body shaking with sobs. "If you don't drop the charges, I’m going to prison for ten years. My life will be over. Please... I’m your daughter."
"My daughter died the day she opened that door and laughed at my pain," I said softly.
May you like
I placed the phone receiver back onto its hook. I stood up, adjusted my coat, and turned away from the glass.
"Mom! Mom! Don't walk away! Please, Mom!" Jessica’s screams echoed through the speaker and rattled against the steel door, but I didn't stop. I walked down the long, gray hallway, past the security checkpoints, and out into the bright, warm sunshine of the afternoon.
