Chapter 10 - THE TRIAL OF BLOOD
The weeks that followed were a blur of court dates,
legal papers,
and painful revelations.
Matthew was held in the county jail,
unable to afford the high bail set by the judge.
Jessica's family,
who had always looked down on Matthew,
refused to help her,
leaving her to rot in a cell next to him.
It turned out that Jessica had a history of financial fraud,
having run a similar scheme on her previous husband before leaving him penniless.
She had targeted Matthew because he was weak,
knowing she could use him to get to my house.
One afternoon,
Robert called me to his office.
"Matthew wants to see you,
Margaret,"
he said,
looking at me gently.
"His lawyer says he's ready to plead guilty,
but he wants to talk to you first."
"He's begging for your forgiveness,
and he wants you to ask the prosecutor for leniency."
I sat in the quiet office,
feeling the weight of seventy-two years on my shoulders.
"Do you think he's sorry,
Robert?"
I asked.
"Or is he just sorry he got caught?"
"I think he's terrified,
Margaret,"
Robert said honestly.
"But he did forge your signature,
and he did try to leave you homeless."
"That is not the action of a son who loves his mother."
I agreed to see him,
not out of mercy,
but because I needed to look him in the eye one last time to find closure.
The visitation room at the county jail was cold and smelled of bleach.
Matthew sat behind the scratched plastic glass,
wearing an orange jumpsuit that made him look small,
gray,
and old.
He looked up when I sat down,
his eyes filling with tears as he grabbed the phone.
"Mom,"
he wept,
his voice cracking through the receiver.
"Thank God you came."
"Please,
Mom,
you have to tell the judge to let me out,
I can't survive in here."
"Jess lied to me,
she told me we wouldn't get caught,
she said you'd forgive us."
I listened to him,
hearing the voice of the boy who always blamed others for his broken toys,
the boy who never took responsibility for his own actions.
"Matthew,"
I said,
my voice calm,
clear,
and quiet.
"You forged my name."
"You tried to steal the house your father and I built for you."
"You stood by and let that woman call me crazy,
and you locked me out in the cold."
"I was afraid,
Mom!"
he cried.
"They were going to hurt me!"
"Then you should have come to me as a son,
not as a thief,"
I said,
feeling a strange peace settle over me.
"I loved you,
Matthew,
but I cannot save you from yourself anymore."
"You will plead guilty,
and you will serve your time."
"And when you get out,
you will find your own way in this world,
because my door is closed to you forever."
I hung up the phone,
stood up,
and walked out of the jail,
May you like
leaving the boy I raised behind the glass,
weeping into his orange sleeve.
