Chapter 7 - The Interrogation Room
Two days later, I sat behind the heavy glass of the interrogation room at the county police precinct. Inside the small, sterile room sat my mother, Eleanor Bradley, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, her hair unbrushed, her face mottled with rage and disbelief.
Detective Miller sat across from her, sliding a thick binder of financial records, witness testimonies, and audio transcripts across the metal table.
“Mrs. Bradley,” Detective Miller said evenly. “Your son is outside. He’s agreed to speak with you before we transfer you to county holding for arraignment.”
Eleanor scoffed, crossing her arms tightly. “I don't need to talk to that ungrateful traitor. He’s been brainwashed by that lazy wife of his! When I get out of here—when my relatives hire a real lawyer—he’ll be begging on his knees for my forgiveness!”
The door opened, and I stepped into the room. I didn't look angry. I looked tired, but resolute. I pulled out the metal chair opposite her and sat down.
“There is no coming back from this, Mom,” I said quietly. “The financial audits are complete. You stole over four hundred thousand dollars from my accounts. You subjected my wife to forced labor and psychological abuse. You tried to forge property deeds and corporate assets.”
She glared at me, her eyes flashing with pure malice. “I gave birth to you! I raised you single-handedly after your father walked out! Every cent you have belongs to me! That house belongs to me! That woman you married is a parasite who stole you away from your real family!”
“My real family is outside,” I replied, my voice steady as bedrock. “Amy and Frederick. They are my wife and my son. You weren't a mother, Eleanor. You were a warden running a private prison.”
She slammed her fists on the table, leaning forward, screaming into my face. “You’ll rot without me! You’re nothing without me!”
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“No,” I stood up, buttoning my suit jacket and looking down at her with absolute pity. “I built skyscrapers and bridges while you were busy tearing down lives. Enjoy your concrete box, Mom. It’s the last foundation you’ll ever try to ruin.”
I turned around, walked out of the room, and closed the heavy steel door behind me.
