PART 3: THE EXCLUSION
Three days passed.
The Mississippi sun burned hot through the tinted windows of the NICU.
Emily sat in a wheelchair, her body sore, a simple white blanket draped over her lap.
She looked through the thick glass partition at the two tiny incubators.
Aiden and Savannah were hooked up to thin monitors, their miniature chests rising and falling in perfect, fragile unison.
They were fighting.
And so was she.
The door behind her opened softly. Nicole walked in, carrying a cup of ice water.
"He's still downstairs, Em," Nicole said quietly, sitting on the small stool beside the wheelchair. "The security guards won't let him past the second floor, but he refuses to leave the parking lot."
Emily didn't turn her head. Her eyes remained fixed on her daughter's tiny hand inside the incubator.
"Let him sit there," Emily said, her voice completely devoid of the warmth she had once carried for him. "Let him watch the world move on without him."
"Victoria finalized the asset freeze," Nicole continued, placing a gentle hand on Emily's shoulder. "The house in Jackson is legally yours under the protection order. The courts have already ruled that because he used corporate funds from your shared marital estate to pay for Jessica Monroe's penthouse, he has committed asset dissipation."
Emily let out a short, dry laugh.
"He thought I was just a quiet housewife," she whispered. "He thought because I spent my days picking out nursery paint, I wasn't watching the ledgers."
"Old money always makes the same mistake," Nicole agreed. "They think arrogance is armor. They forget it's just a target."
Suddenly, the glass window in front of them trembled.
Down in the courtyard below, a black SUV pulled up, flanked by two local police cruisers.
Emily leaned forward, looking down.
Two federal agents stepped out of the lead vehicle, walking straight toward Michael, who was sitting on the stone bench by the hospital fountain.
He didn't fight. He didn't shout.
He slowly stood up, raising his hands as the agents ratcheted heavy steel handcuffs around his wrists.
He looked up at the third-floor window, his bloodshot eyes searching the glass until he caught Emily's silhouette.
He mouthed a single word: Please.
Emily reached up, her manicured fingers wrapping around the handle of the window blind.
May you like
With a slow, deliberate movement, she pulled the cord.
The blinds snapped shut, sealing him away in the darkness of his own creation.
