Chapter 4 - Face to Face with the Monster
The interrogation room was cold, stark, and sterile.
Grace Salazar sat at the center of the table, her hands handcuffed to a metal loop anchored to the surface. She was no longer wearing her comfortable clothes; she was dressed in an orange county jail jumpsuit. Her hair was messy, and her face was lined with bitter anger, but her eyes were still filled with the same icy arrogance Adrian had known his entire life.
When the door opened and Adrian walked in, Grace didn't look remorseful. She smirked.
"Well," Grace said, her voice dripping with venom. "Look who finally came to see his mother. Have you come to apologize for putting these irons on my wrists?"
Adrian didn't sit down. He stood opposite her, leaning his hands on the table, staring down at the woman who had birthed him.
"You locked my pregnant wife in a windowless shed for two days without food or water," Adrian said softly, his voice dangerously low. "You left her to bleed and freeze on a concrete floor."
Grace rolled her eyes, scoffing softly. "Oh, stop being so dramatic, Adrian. She was fine. A little cold weather never killed anyone. That girl was disrespectful to me! She was trying to turn you against your own blood! I raised you, Adrian! I sacrificed everything for you after your father died!"
"You kept a girl chained in a basement for two years, Mom," Adrian said, the word Mom feeling like poison on his tongue. "You tortured Clara Martinez for money."
Grace’s expression hardened into a cold, hateful sneer. "That girl was a thief! She was trying to steal Brandon’s future! Brandon is brilliant, Adrian! He deserved that money! He deserved a real life, not working like a dog in some dusty construction yard like you!"
Adrian stared at her, a profound, sickening realization dawning on him. All those years he had worked eighty-hour weeks on industrial sites, sending half his paycheck home to support his mother and pay for Brandon’s college tuition, Grace had viewed him as nothing more than a brainless pack mule. Brandon was her precious golden child; Adrian was just the tool that funded their comfort.
"I gave you everything," Adrian whispered, his voice trembling with years of suppressed pain. "Every dollar I earned... I gave it to you. I put food on your table. I paid off your debts."
"And you should have given more!" Grace spat back, leaning forward as far as her chains would allow. "You brought that low-class, pathetic girl into my house! You gave her your attention! You let her control your money! You were supposed to take care of me and Brandon forever!"
Adrian slowly straightened up. The last lingering shred of filial obligation, the deep-seated urge to seek his mother's approval, died completely inside his chest.
"You are going to prison for the rest of your life, Grace," Adrian said calmly, his voice devoid of any emotion. "You, Brandon, and anyone who helped you."
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Grace’s face twisted in rage. She slammed her handcuffed fists onto the metal table, the sound echoing sharply against the concrete walls. "You can't do this to me! I am your mother! I will tell the judge you forced us! I will tell them you knew about Clara all along! I will drag you down with us, Adrian! You hear me? I will destroy you!"
Adrian looked at her with pity and disgust. He turned around, knocked on the heavy metal door for the guard, and walked out without looking back a single time.
