Chapter 7 - The Interrogation Room
The interrogation room was freezing cold, smelling faintly of old coffee and industrial bleach.
I sat shivering in a metal chair, my wrists still locked tightly in the heavy steel handcuffs.
The door opened aggressively, and a tall, gray-haired man in a captain's uniform stepped inside.
He dropped a thick stack of paperwork onto the metal table with a loud, intimidating slam.
I recognized him immediately from the family photo albums sitting on our living room shelf.
It was Brandon's uncle, a powerful man who had served in the local police department for over thirty years.
He leaned over the table, his breath smelling of stale tobacco, and told me I was in serious trouble.
He slid a pen toward my bound hands, ordering me to sign a full confession and permanently relinquish custody of my son.
He promised that if I signed the papers, he would ensure I received psychiatric help instead of a lengthy prison sentence.
I stared at the corrupted captain, realizing exactly why Brandon had felt so confident committing his crimes out in the open.
The entire local police system was rigged to protect him and his mother at my expense.
I pushed the pen away with my knuckles, refusing to sign a single word of his fabricated lies.
The captain’s face turned bright red, and he threatened to have me locked in solitary confinement for the rest of my life.
I looked him dead in the eye and demanded my legally guaranteed phone call.
May you like
I told him I didn't want a lawyer, because a local lawyer would just play along with his corrupt game.
I demanded to call my estranged sister, who lived out of state and worked as an investigative journalist.
