Chapter 7 - The Beggars in the Pit
The visitation room at the Central Women's Correctional Facility was divided by a thick panel of bulletproof glass. The air smelled of industrial bleach, stale sweat, and defeat.
When Eleanor was led into the booth, I barely recognized her.
Her signature blonde hair had turned an oily, unwashed grey at the roots. The designer silk wraps were replaced by a stained orange jumpsuit. Her face was gaunt, her cheeks hollow, and her eyes darted around the room with the frantic, paranoid energy of a caged beast.
She picked up the plastic telephone receiver on her side of the glass with trembling, bruised fingers.
I sat down on the metal stool, picking up mine. I wore a simple cream-colored wool coat, my hair pulled back in an elegant twist. I looked healthy, whole, and completely untouched by her venom.
"Emily," Eleanor breathed into the receiver, her voice raspy and cracked. "Emily, my baby... thank God you came. Look at what they’re doing to me. Look at this place! They treat me like an animal! The guards are sadistic, the food is inedible, and the women in here... they’re monsters, Emily! Monsters!"
I looked at her calmly. "You look tired, Eleanor."
Eleanor’s eyes flared with a brief flash of irritation before she forced an oily, manipulative smile onto her face. "Emily, we have to stop this madness. You’ve made your point. You showed Dad and me that you’re strong. You showed us that you won't be pushed around. We respect that, darling. We really do! Even your father said in his holding cell that he was proud of how smart you are."
"My father is currently facing twenty-five years in federal prison for wire fraud and embezzlement," I said levelly. "He doesn't have the luxury of pride."
Eleanor pressed her palms against the glass. "Listen to me! Lauren betrayed us! That little snake took a plea deal! She threw us to the wolves after everything we sacrificed for her! But you... you and I were always the smart ones, Emily. If you drop the state assault charges, Pendelton says he can get my bail reinstated! We can use Grandmother Evelyn's trust to pay the restitution to the federal court, settle the fines, and we can move to Europe! Just you, me, and little Noah! I can help you raise him! I can be the grandmother he needs!"
I listened to her, marveling at the sheer, bottomless depth of her delusion. Even now, stripped of her wealth, her freedom, and her social standing, she truly believed that she was the center of the universe—that with a few sweet words, she could erase the fist she had slammed into my womb, the water she had left me to drown in, and the fifteen years of systematic theft.
"Grandmother Evelyn's trust is mine, Eleanor," I said, my voice low and steady. "The federal court restored it to me three days ago. Every penny."
Eleanor’s face went rigid. The fake maternal smile vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated venom. "What?"
"The Oakridge mansion has been seized," I continued. "It’s being auctioned off next month to pay for Noah’s medical bills and to fund an endowment for battered mothers. Your jewelry, your fur coats, your sports cars—they've all been cataloged by the federal marshals for auction. You have nothing left, Eleanor. You have forty-two dollars in your commissary account, and when your trial ends next month, you will be transferred to the maximum-security state penitentiary in Gatesville to serve fifteen to twenty years for attempted murder."
Eleanor’s eyes bugged out of her head. She began slamming her fist against the bulletproof glass, screaming into the receiver. "You ungrateful, disgusting whore! I should have drowned you in the bathtub when you were a baby! I should have hit you harder! I should have made sure you never came out of that pool!"
"I know," I said quietly, looking directly into her maddened eyes. "That was your mistake. You didn't hit hard enough."
"I will destroy you!" Eleanor shrieked, spitting against the glass. "When I get out, I will find that bastard child of yours and—"
Before she could finish, two corrections officers grabbed her arms, twisting them behind her back and forcing her away from the partition. She kicked and screamed, thrashing against their grip like a rabid animal, her obscenities echoing through the visiting hall until the heavy steel doors slammed shut behind her.
May you like
I hung up the plastic receiver, wiped the condensation from my side of the glass with a tissue, and walked out into the clean, crisp autumn air.
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