Forty-eight hours later, Mark sat in a small, sterile holding cell at the county jail, wearing an orange jumpsuit. His hair was messy, his beard unwashed, and his hands were trembling as he gripped the receiver of the jailhouse telephone.
On the other side of the thick glass partition sat his defense attorney, a stressed-looking man named Mr. Miller.
Mark: How long until you get me out of here, Miller?! I've been in this cell for two days!
Mr. Miller: Calm down, Mark. The judge set your bail at twenty-five thousand dollars this morning.
Mark: Great! Pay it out of my savings account!
Mr. Miller: I can't do that, Mark.
Mark: Why not?!
Mr. Miller: Clara's attorney filed an emergency freeze on all joint accounts connected to the household mortgage. Your personal savings account was linked to that line of credit.
Mark: She froze my money?! She can't do that!
Mr. Miller: She can, and she did. The court approved it because you threatened to liquidize domestic assets in your text messages.
Mark slammed his fist against the metal desk in front of him, making the phone receiver rattle.
Mark: What about my job?! Have you talked to Apex Logistics?!
Mr. Miller: They sent over your final severance paperwork yesterday. You're officially terminated, Mark. And because of the nature of the charges, they aren't paying out your quarterly bonus.
Mark: That bonus was thirty thousand dollars! That was my life savings!
Mr. Miller: Mark, you need to understand the situation you are in. Clara isn't just filing criminal charges. She's suing you in civil court for intentional infliction of emotional distress, battery, and financial fraud regarding the house down payment.
Mark: Financial fraud?! I put her name on the deed!
Mr. Miller: Yes, but her attorney proved that you used her inheritance money without fulfilling your written agreement to contribute equally to the equity pool. The judge signed an order granting her exclusive occupancy of the home.
Mark: So... where am I supposed to live when I get out of here?
Mr. Miller: You have to find your own place, Mark. And you aren't allowed within five hundred feet of Clara, her workplace, or her brother's home.
Mark leaned back against the concrete wall, tears of pure anger and desperation filling his eyes.
Mark: She ruined my life over one mistake... one single moment!
Mr. Miller: It wasn't a mistake, Mark. It was a crime. And until you realize that, no judge in this county is going to show you mercy.
Mark: I want to talk to her! Put her on the phone!
Mr. Miller: If you attempt to contact Clara Evans directly or indirectly, you will violate your bail conditions and go straight back to jail for twelve months without trial. Do you understand me?
Mark looked down at his hands—the same hands that had struck Clara just two days ago. He had thought he was the master of his house, untouchable and supreme. Now, he had lost his career, his savings, his freedom, and his home.