The quiet hum of heart monitors filled Room 412 at St. Jude Hospital. Margaret lay in the adjustable bed, an IV line taped to her wrist and a white bandage taped over her swollen left eye.
Kelsey walked softly into the room, setting her tactical helmet down on the visitor's chair.
Kelsey: Hey, Mom...
Margaret: Kelsey... you took off your gear...
Kelsey: Yeah. Shift's over. How are you feeling?
Margaret: Everything hurts... but my heart feels lighter.
Kelsey sat on the edge of the bed and gently took Margaret's cold hand into her own.
Kelsey: The doctor said you have a mild concussion and a cracked cheekbone, but no internal bleeding.
Margaret: I thought I was never going to see you again, sweetheart.
Kelsey: I'm sorry I took so long to come, Mom. I should have realized why you weren't answering my calls.
Margaret: He took my phone away three months ago... he told me you were busy with your SWAT team and didn't want to talk to me.
A tear trickled down Margaret's bruised cheek, soaking into the white cotton pillowcase.
Kelsey: He lied to you, Mom. I called five times a week. Every call went straight to a disconnected voicemail.
Margaret: He showed me fake text messages on his phone... saying you wanted me put in a nursing home.
Kelsey: He was trying to break your spirit so you'd give up and sign the house over.
Margaret reached out with her free hand, touching Kelsey's shoulder.
Margaret: He threatened to hurt you if I didn't sign the life insurance papers, Kelsey. He said he knew where your precinct was.
Kelsey: He couldn't touch me if he tried, Mom. He's a coward who only picks on people who can't fight back.
The room door opened softly, and Detective Vance walked inside holding a manila folder.
Detective Vance: Captain Mitchell? Do you have a minute?
Kelsey: Sure, Detective. Mom, this is Detective Vance. He's handling Ryan's criminal case.
Margaret: Hello, Detective...
Detective Vance: Good evening, Mrs. Mitchell. I'm so sorry for what you've been through.
Vance opened the file on the small rolling table near the bed.
Detective Vance: We just finished Ryan's initial interrogation down at the precinct.
Kelsey: Did he talk?
Detective Vance: Once we showed him the notary's recorded confession, he broke down and spilled everything.
Margaret looked up nervously from her pillow.
Margaret: What did he say, Detective?
Detective Vance: He admitted to forging your signatures on three credit applications, the quitclaim deed, and the life insurance policy change.
Kelsey: Did he admit to the assault?
Detective Vance: He tried to claim he was acting in self-defense, but your bodycam footage completely wiped that defense out.
Kelsey smiled coldly, leaning back against her chair.
Kelsey: My camera recorded every second from the moment I kicked the door down to the moment he dropped the bat.
Detective Vance: The prosecutor is filing attempted first-degree murder, felony elder abuse, grand larceny, and identity fraud.
Margaret: How many years... how many years will he get?
Detective Vance: With his prior record and the severity of these charges, he's looking at twenty-five to thirty years without parole.
Margaret closed her eyes, letting out a long, heavy breath that she seemed to have been holding for months.
Margaret: Thank God... it's finally over.