My Husband Sold My Two Million Dollar Land For Five Dollars To His Girlfriend
Marcus Fitzgerald sat at the small gray laminate table in the corner of the consultation room, his wire-rimmed glasses resting on top of a thin manila folder. He was already polishing them with his silk cloth when I let myself in, the heavy door clicking shut behind me.
“The prosecutor did not waste any time,” Marcus said, not looking up until he had held the lenses to the light. “Samuel’s attorney spent three hours in the back office yesterday evening.”
I pulled out the metal chair opposite him, my silver belt buckle catching the yellow glare of the ceiling bulbs. I adjusted the buckle, feeling the cool metal beneath my thumb as I sat. “Did he sign the plea?”
“He has agreed to the terms,” Marcus said, setting his glasses back on his nose and looking at me with quiet intensity. “Grand larceny, second-degree forgery, and state tax fraud. Three years in state prison.”
I looked at the folder. It was thin, barely half an inch of white paper to summarize eighteen years of marriage. “Three years.”
