Chapter 13
At 2:00 PM, I drove to the Nashua Street Jail, accompanied by David Vance to deliver the final divorce papers in person.
I was escorted into a cold, sterile visitor room divided by a thick pane of bulletproof glass and a metal intercom system.
Julian was led into the room by a correction officer, wearing an oversized orange jumpsuit and heavy plastic sandals.
His hair was unwashed, dark circles shadowed his hollow eyes, and his hands trembled as he picked up the phone receiver.
I picked up my side of the receiver, sitting down in the metal chair without saying a word.
“Audrey,” Julian whispered, his voice raspy and broken through the electronic speaker.
May you like
“You’ve won. You took my company, my reputation, my freedom, and my money.”
“Are you happy now?”
