Chapter 14 - Grant Begs For Mercy From Behind The Glass
On Friday morning, Claire sat in the private visitation room of the Cook County detention facility, waiting quietly behind the thick glass.
The steel door opened, and Grant was led in by two guards, looking unrecognizable in his oversized orange inmate jumpsuit.
His hair was messy, his face was pale and unshaven, and his eyes were bloodshot from days of constant panic and crying.
He sat down heavily on the metal stool, grabbing the intercom phone with trembling, desperate hands as he looked at Claire.
“Claire! Oh God, Claire, please!” Grant sobbed through the speaker, pressing his hand against the glass dividing them.
“I made a terrible mistake! I was out of my mind! Vanessa tricked me! She manipulated me into everything!” Grant lied frantically.
Claire picked up her phone slowly, looking at her broken, desperate husband with an expression of total, unshakeable indifference.
“Vanessa didn't raise your hand to hit me six times, Grant,” Claire said, her voice dropping into an icy, steady register.
“Vanessa didn't throw my bag into the rain or mock my father,” she added, watching him flinch at every word she spoke.
“Claire, please... tell your father to stop! I have nothing left! My company is gone! My money is gone!” Grant begged, weeping openly.
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“You wanted me to remember my place, Grant,” Claire whispered softly into the receiver. “This is yours.”
She hung up the phone, stood up gracefully from the chair, and walked out of the visitation room without looking back at him once.
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