Chapter 11: A Visit to Cell Block C
A week before the formal trial, Maya requested a private visitor’s meeting at the county correctional facility.
Eleanor sat behind the reinforced glass partition. Stripped of her designer clothing, her makeup, and her jewelry, she looked hollow, her skin sallow under the harsh fluorescent tubes.
"Did you come to gloat?" Eleanor sneered, picking up the heavy plastic phone receiver.
Maya picked up her receiver. She remained calm, her posture upright and untroubled. "I came to ask you one question. Why? You already had more money than you could spend in ten lifetimes."
Eleanor let out a dry, bitter laugh. "Arthur never loved me. He loved his work. He loved your mother’s memory. And most of all, he loved you. I built his social empire, I introduced him to the elites, and yet I was always a ghost in his house. I wanted what was mine."
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"Greed didn't make you powerful, Eleanor," Maya said softly, feeling a wave of pity wash over her anger. "It made you small. You spent your whole life trying to cage other people because you were trapped in your own bitterness."
Maya placed the phone back on the cradle, stood up, and walked toward the heavy steel exit doors without looking back.
