Chapter 9 - The Last Gambit
Weeks after the verdict, the final wreckage was being cleared away. Grant, facing a lengthy prison sentence for fraud, forgery, and domestic battery, had one final, desperate card to play. He had managed to contact me through a prison solicitor, requesting a meeting.
Curiosity, not pity, drove me to the visitor’s room.
He sat behind the glass, looking thin and defeated. The arrogance was gone, replaced by a hollow, predatory sadness.
"I have one last thing, Clara," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I know where the offshore accounts are—the ones my father hid before he died. The ones that could have saved the company. If you drop the charges, I’ll give you the codes. You can have it all. You can be richer than you ever dreamed."
I stared at him, feeling absolutely nothing. No anger, no longing, no desire for his wealth.
"Grant," I said, leaning toward the partition. "You still don't understand. You think money was the prize. You think that if I have more of it, I’ll be happy. But I already have the only thing that matters."
"What is that?" he spat.
May you like
"I have my own time," I said. "I don't have to listen to you. I don't have to apologize for existing. I don't have to watch you smile while you destroy me. That is the only wealth I ever wanted."
I stood up and walked away. As I exited the prison, I didn't look back. I had the codes for those accounts, but I had already decided what to do with them. I donated every cent to the legal defense funds for victims of abuse. By the time I reached my car, the Mercer name was effectively dead, and I was finally, truly, Clara.
