Chapter 19 - The Final SeveranceThe next morning, under a heavy guard of federal marshals, I entered the maximum-security wing of the penitentiary where my father was serving his sentence.
We walked down a long, white corridor with heavy steel doors that opened and closed with a deafening, hydraulic clang. I was escorted into a private interrogation room where my father was already waiting, his hands and feet chained to the floor.
He looked older, his gray eyes sunken, but when he saw me, he let out a harsh, bitter laugh.
"Emily," he said. "Have you come to see the ruins of your handiwork? I hope you're happy in your cheap little apartment."
"I am happy, Father," I said, sitting across from him, separated by a thick pane of bulletproof glass. "But I'm not here to talk about my apartment. I'm here to talk about the Valdez cartel."
His smile faded slightly, his eyes narrowing. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"They tried to corner me last night, Father," I said, my voice cold and flat. "They threatened Ethan. They wanted the Swiss millions. The same Swiss millions that Ethan just signed over to the federal government."
My father’s face turned into a mask of pure, absolute stone. "You gave them the Swiss money? That was my retirement, Emily! That was the only thing I had left!"
"It was never yours, Richard," I said, using his first name for the first time in my life. "It was stolen from the victims of your shipping lines. But more importantly, you gave the cartel my address. You tried to use them to kill me or force me to commit another crime."
"You deserve whatever happens to you!" he hissed, leaning against the glass, his chains rattling violently. "You destroyed this family! You put me in this cage!"
"No," I said, standing up. "You put yourself here. But today, I am putting an end to your influence. Sarah Vance has just signed an order for administrative segregation. You are being moved to a solitary confinement wing in Colorado. No phone calls. No mail. No visitors. Your lawyers will only be allowed to communicate with you through written briefs vetted by the federal government."
My father froze, his face draining of color as he realized the absolute finality of his isolation.
"You can't do that," he whispered. "I have rights..."
May you like
"You lost your rights when you used your family as currency, Richard," I said, looking down at him with a quiet, devastating pity. "This is the last time you will ever see my face. This is the last time you will ever hear my voice. You are officially dead to us."
I turned my back on him, walking out of the interrogation room as he began to scream, his wild, desperate curses muffled by the thick, bulletproof glass, until the heavy steel doors finally slammed shut, sealing him away in the dark forever.
