Chapter 3 - The Interrogation RoomThe living room of our house had transformed into something resembling a high-stakes interrogation room, minus the steel handcuffs—at least for the moment.
Ten minutes after Linda hit the rug, two local police cruisers pulled into our driveway with their sirens silent but their blue lights flashing against the drawn blinds. A knock sounded at the front door, firm and official.
Mason froze, burying his face in his hands. Linda scrambled to her feet, smoothing down her designer blouse with trembling hands, her face twisted in utter panic and rage.
"You called the police?" Linda hissed, glaring at me as if she could murder me with her eyes. "On your own husband? On family?!"
"You stopped being family the moment you plotted to steal my earnings and encourage physical violence against me," I replied, walking over to the front door and opening it wide.
Officer Miller, a seasoned local detective I had spoken with earlier that morning through my lawyer, stepped into the foyer accompanied by a female officer.
"Mrs. Carter?" Detective Miller asked, looking around the room.
"Yes, Officer. I'm Evelyn Carter," I said, stepping aside. "I'd like to file formal criminal charges of domestic abuse, extortion, financial coercion, and conspiracy against both Mason Carter and Linda Carter."
Linda let out a shrill laugh, though her voice shook violently. "This is a ridiculous fabrication! She's a hysterical woman having a mental breakdown! My son did nothing wrong, and I was merely visiting to check on my family!"
Detective Miller held up a hand, cutting her off instantly. He pulled a tablet from his coat pocket and tapped the screen. Within seconds, clear, high-definition audio filled the room.
“Put her in her place today, Mason. If she fights back, hit her. I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning to make sure she's learned her lesson.”
Linda’s voice rang out through the living room, crisp, cold, and undeniable.
The color drained entirely from her face. She looked like she had just seen a ghost.
"That... that's edited!" Linda stammered, backing away until she hit the wall. "That's artificial intelligence! People can fake anything nowadays!"
"It's not AI, Mrs. Carter," Detective Miller said smoothly. "It was pulled directly from your son's phone records, backed up by digital forensics, and corroborated by video footage from multiple angles inside this residence."
Officer Miller turned his attention to Mason, who was still slumped on the couch, shaking uncontrollably. "Mr. Carter, stand up, please."
Mason didn't move.
"Stand up!" Officer Miller repeated sharply.
Mason slowly rose to his feet, his head bowed.
"You're being placed under arrest for domestic assault, financial extortion, and violation of protection statutes," Detective Miller announced, stepping forward and pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt.
Click. Click.
The sound of the cuffs locking around Mason’s wrists echoed through the room like a death knell for the short-lived marriage.
As officers led Mason toward the front door, Linda rushed forward, wailing hysterically. "Mason! My baby! You can't take him! This is a nightmare!" She turned on me, her eyes blazing with blind fury. "I will ruin you! I will spend every last dime I have to see you destroyed, you vicious, ungrateful witch!"
Detective Miller gently but firmly blocked her path. "Ma'am, I suggest you watch your language and refrain from making direct threats of retaliation, or you'll be joining your son in the back of that cruiser."
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Linda choked back her words, her chest heaving as she watched her golden-boy son being led down the walkway and placed into the back of a police cruiser.
She stood alone in the center of the living room, defeated, terrified, and utterly exposed.
