Chapter 12 - The Visit to the Cell-12
Two weeks passed.
The dust surrounding the Kingsley scandal slowly began to settle into the steady rhythm of legal proceedings and corporate restructuring.
On a cold Tuesday morning, I drove down to the Metropolitan Correctional Center in downtown Chicago. I wore a plain charcoal suit, my hair pulled back into a neat, professional bun.
I sat in a small, sterile visitation room separated by a thick pane of plexiglass.
After five minutes, the heavy steel door on the opposite side opened, and my father walked in.
Julian was dressed in a dark blue inmate jumpsuit. He had lost weight, his hair was unkempt, and the immaculate, commanding presence he had maintained for decades was completely gone. He sat down heavily in the plastic chair across from me and picked up the black telephone receiver.
I picked up mine.
“You came,” Julian said, his voice raspy and thin through the earpiece.
“I came to bring you your personal belongings from the house,” I said calmly, gesturing to a small cardboard box sitting near the guard’s desk. “The court authorized the release of your non-liquid personal items—photographs, old books, your military service medals.”
Julian looked at the box, then looked back at me, his eyes searching my face for any sign of anger, hesitation, or regret.
He found none.
“Your mother is staying in a rented apartment in Rockford,” Julian said softly. “Grant’s public defender is trying to negotiate a plea deal for five years.”
“I know,” I replied. “Nora updates me on the court filings every morning.”
Julian let out a long, shuddering breath, resting his forehead against the cold plexiglass for a moment before looking up again. “I spent fifteen years building that company, Evelyn. I worked eighteen hours a day—”
“You spent fifteen years destroying it, Father,” I interrupted gently. “Grandfather built it. You just spent it.”
“Why didn't you come to me?” Julian asked, a sudden surge of raw, agonizing pain flashing in his eyes. “On your birthday... why didn't you just ask me what was happening? Why did you go behind my back to Nora?”
“Because if I had come to you,” I said, looking him dead in the eye, “you would have smiled, squeezed my shoulder too hard, told me I was being dramatic, and taken my money anyway. You never saw me as your daughter, Julian. You saw me as an asset to be managed.”
Julian closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He had no answer. Because he knew it was the absolute truth.
“The trial starts in October,” I said, preparing to hang up the phone. “I’ve instructed our legal team not to file any civil damages against you personally beyond what the federal court seizes. I don't want your revenge. I just want you out of my company.”
“Evelyn... wait,” Julian rasped, raising his hand against the glass.
I paused, holding the receiver to my ear.
“Your grandfather...” Julian choked out, tears finally brimming in his eyes. “He knew... didn't he? From the very beginning?”
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“He knew,” I whispered. “He knew you were weak. But he hoped I would be strong enough to fix what you broke.”
I hung up the phone, set it back on the cradle, and walked out of the visitation room without looking back.
