Chapter 4 - The Interrogation RoomThe observation mirror inside Interview Room 3 of the Federal Building reflected the harsh, cold fluorescent light of the basement wing.
Sitting on one side of the metal table was Julian Bennett.
He looked completely hollowed out. His tailored suit was gone, replaced by a bright orange institutional jumpsuit, his wrists bound in heavy steel handcuffs attached to a waist chain. His hair was messy, dark purple shadows carved deep beneath his eyes, his hands trembling against the stainless-steel table.
Sitting on the other side of the glass, looking through the one-way mirror, were my father and I.
Special Agent Marcus Vance—lead investigator for the FBI’s Financial Crimes Unit—stepped into the observation room, handing Dad two cups of warm coffee.
"He's offered to plead guilty to the financial fraud charges, Arthur," Agent Vance reported softly. "His defense team is trying to negotiate a deal that drops the domestic assault charges against him for shoving Claire down the stairs."
My father took a slow sip of his coffee, his wire-rimmed glasses catching the reflection of the fluorescent light.
"Tell his attorney that the domestic assault charge is non-negotiable, Marcus," Dad said, his voice flat, cold, and razor-sharp. "He pushed my daughter down twelve oak steps while she was holding a laundry basket. He left her lying on concrete with broken ribs and bruises across her spine."
Agent Vance nodded respectfully. "Understood, Arthur. The State's Attorney is filing the charge as Aggravated Domestic Battery with Malice—a mandatory minimum of eight years without parole."
Dad set his coffee cup down, turning his dark eyes to look at me.
"Are you ready to sign the final divorce decree, Claire?" Dad asked gently.
I pulled out the leather folder Daniel Brooks had prepared for me. Inside rested the final decree of divorce, along with the full, permanent sole custody agreement granting me absolute legal and physical custody of Lily, with zero visitation rights for Julian or Victoria.
"I've been ready since the moment I woke up in that triage bay, Dad," I answered softly.
We stepped out of the observation room, walking into Interview Room 3.
When Julian saw me step through the metal door—wearing my cream sweater, holding the leather folder—his bloodshot eyes filled with a desperate, pathetic hope.
"Claire...!" Julian wept, pressing his handcuffed hands flat against the table. "Claire, please... talk to your father! Tell him to withdraw the assault charge! I was angry! I didn't mean to push you that hard! It was an accident!"
I walked over to the metal table, setting the divorce decree flat in front of him, sliding a gold pen into his trembling fingers.
"Sign the papers, Julian," I commanded cleanly, my voice smooth, quiet, and holding zero lingering fear.
Julian looked at the document, his tears spilling onto the paper. "Claire... please... I'm Lily's father! You can't take her away from me permanently!"
"You ceased being Lily's father the moment you let your mother call mine to boast about breaking my bones, Julian," I murmured near his ear. "Sign the decree, or my father will ensure the secondary tax evasion counts are prosecuted individually."
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Julian’s hands trembled violently as he picked up the pen, signing his name across the bottom line with a broken, jagged flourish: Julian Bennett.
I picked up the signed decree, slipped it into my folder, and turned my back on him forever as the corrections officers led his crying, broken frame back into the dark corridors of the prison.
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