Chapter 7 - The Meeting in the Tower
Two weeks passed. The cold November wind had stripped the last golden leaves from the trees along Michigan Avenue, leaving the city sharp, clean, and bracing.
I sat in the high-floor corner conference room of Sterling & Associates, dressed in a sharp navy wool pantsuit, looking healthy, vibrant, and completely at peace.
Dr. Harrison had cleared me for light administrative work, and my cardiac scans showed that my arrhythmia had entirely resolved once the toxic stress of my marriage had been surgically removed from my daily existence.
The heavy walnut conference doors opened.
Marcus Sterling entered, followed by Daniel and his court-appointed legal aid attorney.
Daniel looked as though he had aged fifteen years in fourteen days. His designer suit hung loosely on his diminished frame, his eyes were sunken with dark purple rings beneath them, and his hands trembled as he pulled out a chair at the opposite end of the mahogany table.
He didn't look at his lawyer. He looked straight at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror, sorrow, and desperate pleading.
"Evelyn," Daniel choked out, his voice cracked and raw.
"Good morning, Daniel," I replied, my tone calm, polite, and completely devoid of warmth.
His attorney, an exhausted young public defender named Miller, set a thin legal file onto the table. "Mrs. Holloway, Mr. Sterling. We have reviewed the petition for dissolution and the forensic audit disclosures."
"And?" Marcus prompted, resting his forearms against the table.
"My client acknowledges that the Highland Crest estate and the investment accounts are non-marital property protected by the original trust charter," Miller conceded, looking sympathetically at his broken client. "However, given Mr. Holloway's current unemployment status, we are requesting a modest rehabilitative alimony award of three thousand dollars a month for twenty-four months."
A quiet, dry chuckle escaped Marcus's throat. He reached into his leather briefcase, pulled out a certified criminal indictment draft from the county district attorney's office, and slid it across the table.
"Your client has a choice, counselor," Marcus stated with absolute finality. "He can pursue his frivolous alimony claim, in which case this criminal referral for second-degree grand larceny and commercial embezzlement is delivered to the grand jury at two o'clock this afternoon."
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Daniel flinched as if he had been slapped, his face turning an ashen gray.
"Or," Marcus continued, "he signs the absolute waiver of all marital claims, surrenders all rights to spousal support, and agrees to an entry of civil judgment for the ninety-two thousand dollars in stolen funds, with repayment terms tied to his future wages."
