Chapter 13 - The Deposition
The conference room on the tenth floor of downtown Seattle’s premier law firm was cold, sterile, and suffocatingly quiet. I sat beside Calder, our hands locked tightly beneath the mahogany table. Across from us sat Brenda, dressed in an immaculate charcoal Chanel suit, her face carved from stone, wearing an expression of supreme, unshakeable entitlement. Beside her sat her high-priced attorney, a man whose tailored suit couldn't hide his nervous twitch as he reviewed our counter-filings.
Brenda’s lawyer cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. "Mr. Calder Vance, let's direct our attention to the financial control asserted over your personal accounts during the months of November and December. Isn't it true that your wife, Maeve Vance, restricted your access to family funds?"
Before Calder could even open his mouth to reply, the heavy glass door of the conference room swung open. Tessa walked in, accompanied not by another lawyer, but by a middle-aged man in a dark federal enforcement windbreaker, holding a thick Manila folder bearing the seal of the United States Department of Justice.
Brenda’s attorney bolted upright. "Excuse me! This is a private civil deposition. Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
The federal agent didn't even look at the lawyer. He walked straight to the table, placed a formal warrant directly in front of Brenda, and rested his hands flat on the polished mahogany.
"Brenda Vance?" the agent asked, his voice calm and authoritative. "You are hereby served with a federal subpoena and a warrant for arrest based on grand larceny, misuse of non-profit charitable funds, and interstate wire fraud."
The color drained entirely from Brenda’s face. The cool, untouchable mask shattered in a single second. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes darting frantically toward her attorney, who had turned pale and was already frantically gathering his papers to distance himself from her.
"This... this is a mistake! My son is a CEO! My family built this city!" Brenda shrieked, her voice cracking with sudden, panicked desperation as she stood up so violently her chair knocked backward against the glass wall. "Calder! Tell them! Tell them this is insane! You're my son!"
Calder slowly stood up beside me. He didn't yell. He didn't look angry. He looked at the woman who had terrorized his wife, manipulated his finances, and tried to destroy our family with a chilling, profound pity.
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"You taught me my whole life about the consequences of dishonor, Mother," Calder said, his voice steady and resonant in the silent room. "You just never thought the law would apply to you. We are done."
***
