Chapter 3 - The Deposition
Three months passed.
The heat of summer gave way to the crisp, cool winds of early autumn. I had moved into a small, light-filled high-rise apartment in the city, five miles from the glass tower of Vance & Associates where I now worked.
For ninety days, my life had been a whirlwind of legal proceedings, grand jury testimonies, and corporate restructuring. My father’s arrest had sent shockwaves through the regional business community, triggering a cascade of investigations that exposed decades of bribery, tax evasion, and money laundering within Bennett Enterprises.
On a rainy Tuesday morning, I sat at the head of a long mahogany conference table on the forty-second floor of the Federal Courthouse downtown.
Across from me sat my father’s lead defense attorney, a ruthless corporate lawyer named Arthur Vance (no relation to my firm), along with my father, who was wearing a orange jumpsuit and heavy wrist restraints. My mother sat in the visitor's row behind him, wearing a plain cotton dress, her eyes hollow, devoid of the glamorous high-society makeup she used to wear.
"Miss Bennett," Attorney Vance began, tapping his pen against a legal pad. "We are here to negotiate a plea arrangement regarding the state fraud charges against your father. My client is willing to plead guilty to wire fraud, provided you agree to sign a non-disclosure agreement regarding the offshore trust and withdraw your testimony regarding the physical assault at the graduation ceremony."
I looked down at the documents laid out before me, then raised my eyes to meet my father's.
Richard Bennett looked ten years older. The arrogant man who had slapped me across the courtyard was completely gone, replaced by a defeated convict facing a mandatory twenty-five-year sentence in federal prison.
"No," I said clearly.
Attorney Vance frowned. "Miss Bennett, if this goes to a full criminal trial, your mother will also be indicted as an accessory to fraud. She signed three of the tax returns in question. Is that really what you want? To put both of your parents behind bars?"
My mother let out a quiet, trembling sob from the back row. "Emily... please... I’m your mother. I cooked for you, I raised you—"
"You let him hit me," I said, my voice cold and immovable. "You watched him steal my identity when I was eighteen, and when he struck me in front of five hundred people, you pointed your finger at me and called me a disgrace."
I turned back to the defense attorney.
"I am not signing an NDA," I stated. "And I am not withdrawing my statement. In fact, my legal team has just filed a civil lawsuit against Bennett Enterprises for identity theft, intentional infliction of emotional distress, and physical battery. We are seeking six million dollars in damages—the exact amount my father siphoned from the university and private investors over the last six years."
My father suddenly slammed his gloved hands onto the table, the steel chains rattling violently. "You ungrateful little witch!" he spat, his old rage flaring up for a brief second. "Everything I built was for this family! You were supposed to serve this family!"
"I owe this family nothing, Richard," I said, calling him by his first name for the very first time in my life. "You used me as a shield for your crimes, and now that shield has turned into your cage."
The lead federal prosecutor, sitting beside me, stood up and smoothed his suit. "The plea offer is officially revoked, Mr. Vance. We will see you in court on Monday."
As the guards pulled my father up from his chair to escort him back to his cell, my mother rushed forward, trying to reach across the table to grab my hand.
"Emily, wait! What about Ethan?" she wept. "He dropped out of school yesterday! He has no money! They’re repossessing his car tomorrow! Please, help your brother!"
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I picked up my briefcase, locked the bronze clasps, and looked my mother dead in the eye.
"Ethan has hands," I said softly. "Let him learn how to use them."
