Chapter 8 - The Confrontation
The glass partition at the high-security federal correctional facility was cold and smudged. On one side sat Victoria Sterling, wearing a bright orange jumpsuit, her hair unwashed, her once-immaculate makeup replaced by hollow eyes and sallow skin.
On the other side sat Clara Vance, composed, elegant, and glowing with life.
Julian stood silently against the back wall of the visitation room, his presence heavy and protective.
Victoria picked up the heavy phone receiver. Clara calmly picked up hers.
"Look at you," Victoria sneered, though her voice lacked its old venom, sounding broken and bitter. "Playing the triumphant victim. You think you’ve won, don't you?"
"I don't need to 'think' I've won, Victoria," Clara said calmly into the phone. "I am free. I am home with my husband. And you are going to spend the next thirty years in a concrete cell."
Victoria slammed her fist against the counter, her eyes flaring with mad desperation. "I hated you! From the moment Julian chose you over me five years ago! I had the wealth, the family name, the social standing! You were nobody! A nobody who stole the only man I ever wanted!"
"Julian never belonged to you," Clara responded, her tone remarkably serene. "You didn't love him. You wanted to own him, just like you tried to own me. But love isn't control, Victoria. Love is what kept Julian looking for me for four years when everyone else told him I was dead."
Victoria shook her head hysterically, tears smearing her pale face. "I should have killed you in that basement! That was my mistake—keeping you alive to watch me live your life!"
"Your mistake was believing that cruel power lasts forever," Clara said softly. "You kept me in the dark for four years, Victoria. But all it took was one second of light for your entire world to fall apart."
May you like
Clara didn't wait for Victoria to answer. She gently set the phone receiver down on the cradle, stood up, and took Julian’s offered hand.
As they walked out of the visitation room, Victoria’s hysterical screams echoed behind the heavy steel doors, fading into complete irrelevance.
