Chapter 15 - The Glass in Oxford
At 2:00 PM on Friday, my father and I arrived at the Federal Correctional Institution in Oxford, Wisconsin.
The concrete visitor’s consultation suite smelled of industrial disinfectant, stale floor wax, and defeat. I sat on a metal stool behind the two-inch-thick ballistic glass partition, dressed in my dark wool coat, watching the heavy steel security door unlock with a loud hydraulic buzz.
Richard was led into the booth by two armed corrections officers, his wrists and ankles bound in heavy transport chains.
The handsome, arrogant executive from our suburban life was completely gone. His tailored suits had been replaced by a coarse, oversized khaki prison jumpsuit with BOP INMATE stenciled across the back. His hair was shaved close, his face sunken, pale, and hollowed out by twelve months in maximum administrative segregation.
He slowly lifted the black plastic telephone receiver with trembling, calloused hands.
I lifted mine to my ear.
"Emily..." Richard choked out, his voice hoarse and broken, fresh tears immediately leaking from his bloodshot eyes. "Emily, please... you have to listen to me. Vance told me to take the bonds. He told me that if I didn't cooperate, he would destroy my career! I never wanted to hurt you or Lily in that kitchen!"
I looked through the scratched glass at the man who had struck me across the face while our terrified daughter watched from the doorway.
I felt no rage. I felt no hatred.
I felt the vast, clean, unyielding stillness of a woman who had walked through the dark and emerged sovereign on the other side.
"You didn't just hurt me, Richard," I said, every word hitting with the force of an iron hammer. "You raised your fist in front of our six-year-old child, and you told her she was worthless. You tried to steal her future to feed your greed."
"I made a mistake, Emily!" Richard wept, pressing his shackled fists against the glass. "Tell the federal prosecutor to drop the secondary bribery charges! I can't survive thirty years in maximum security!"
I pulled a single document from my leather portfolio and pressed it firmly against the glass.
It was the final, certified decree from the United States District Court: Permanent Termination of All Parental Claims, Total Asset Forfeiture, and Lifetime Restraining Injunction.
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"You have no family here, Richard," I told him, looking straight into his wide, terrified eyes. "Lily’s legal name is Sterling. She will grow up knowing her mother protected her, and that her father was a ghost who destroyed himself."
I set the receiver down on its cradle, stood up, and walked out of the visitor’s room into the crisp autumn sunshine, leaving the coward locked behind iron bars forever.
