Chapter 13 - The Prison Visit
Z
The Federal Correctional Institution in Sheridan, Oregon, was a stark, low-slung complex surrounded by rolling hills and dense evergreen forests.
Jason Carter sat at a wooden table in the outdoor recreation yard, wearing a faded khaki uniform with his registration number stamped in black ink over his left breast pocket. His hands were calloused from working eight-hour shifts in the prison carpentry shop. The smooth, pampered skin of a corporate executive had been replaced by a rough, weathered tan.
Across from him sat David Ross—his former top client, the man whose $2 million contract had once kept Carter Logistics alive.
"I didn't think you’d actually come, David," Jason said, his voice quiet, devoid of the cocky charm he once used to close deals.
"I didn't come to visit you, Jason," David said flatly, keeping his hands folded on the table. "I came because your federal public defender contacted my legal team asking for a character reference for your upcoming sentence reduction review."
Jason looked down at his rough hands. "Did you write it?"
David laughed—a dry, bitter sound. "Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what your fraud did to my firm’s reputation? It took us six months of independent audits to prove to the SEC that we weren't co-conspirators in your mother's kickback scheme!"
"I was trying to fix it, David..." Jason choked out, his eyes welling with shame. "My mother... she had debts. She was blackmailing me with old family secrets. I thought if I could just get through one more quarter—"
"Stop blaming your mother, Jason," David interrupted, leaning forward, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "You were thirty-two years old. You weren't a child. You were a CEO who looked at a sweet, brilliant, wealthy woman who loved you, and decided she was nothing more than an ATM with a smile."
Jason flinched as if he had been struck.
"Do you know where Claire was last night?" David continued, watching Jason’s face closely. "She was the keynote speaker at the National Business Ethics Summit. She raised $4 million in one evening for legal defense funds for abuse survivors. She looked radiant. Strong. Powerful."
Jason swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. "Does she... does she ever talk about me?"
David looked at his former business partner with profound disgust. "She doesn't have to talk about you, Jason. You're the footnote in her biography. You're the bad decision she made in her twenties that she thoroughly corrected in her thirties."
David stood up, adjusting his coat. "Don't ever have your lawyer contact my office again. If you do, I will personally file an opposition brief with the parole board to ensure you serve every single day of your seven-year sentence."
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Without waiting for a response, David turned and walked toward the security checkpoint, leaving Jason alone at the wooden table in the damp Oregon fog.
Jason buried his face in his calloused hands, weeping silently as the cold rain began to fall around him.
