Chapter 17 - The Cold VisitorSix months later, a formal letter arrived from the Warden’s Office at Blackwood State Penitentiary. Trevor had submitted a formal request for a visitation under the inmate-family mediation act. He claimed he had vital information regarding offshore accounts that had not been recovered during the financial asset forfeiture.
Victoria Sterling advised me to ignore it, but Detective Vance accompanied me to the facility when I decided to go. I needed to look into his eyes one last time—not as a victim, but as the sole guardian of our family's future.
The visitation room was cold and stark, separated by a thick slab of reinforced glass. When the heavy iron door opened, Trevor walked in wearing orange scrubs, handcuffed at the wrists. He looked diminished, his posture slumped, the sharp arrogance completely drained from his face.
He sat down, picking up the heavy gray telephone handset. I picked up mine on the other side of the glass.
"Hannah," Trevor’s voice cracked through the receiver, thin and hollow. "You actually came."
"I came to tell you to stop sending letters," I said calmly, keeping my voice utterly devoid of emotion. "There are no hidden offshore accounts left, Trevor. Victoria traced every single transaction back to your shell company in the Caymans. Everything has been seized by federal marshals."
Trevor gripped the receiver tightly, his knuckles turning white. "Hannah, you don't understand what it's like in here. I'm facing another trial for your father's death. They're going to put me away in solitary... Please. Tell the prosecutor you don't want to testify at the second trial. Just let me plead out quietly."
"You poisoned my father," I said softly, looking at him with cold clarity. "You poisoned our five-year-old daughter. You sat by her bed, watched her suffer, and called me at 11:07 p.m. to ask when her funeral was."
"I was desperate!" he begged, tears welling in his eyes—tears of self-pity, not remorse. "The debt was crushing me! I panicked!"
"No, Trevor," I said, standing up from my chair. "You weren't panicked. You were a monster hiding behind a mask. And now the mask is gone."
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"Hannah, wait! Don't hang up!" he pleaded, tapping frantically against the glass.
I lowered the receiver, hung it back on the wall hook, and walked toward the exit door without looking back. His muted shouts faded behind the heavy steel doors as they locked behind me.
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