When Love Died
At two in the morning, during a raid, I personally arrested my wife, Carolyn Hewitt, in a rundown motel room.
Her neck was covered in hickeys. In handcuffs, she sat beside the bed, trying to comfort her younger brother, who had curled up in the corner, quietly sobbing.
"Alex failed his exam and has been feeling terrible. So, I brought him here to relax. Don't get the wrong idea."
In the past, I would have already been shouting at her. However, at that moment, I did not even have the strength to expose her lies.
I had heard them too many times.
"Mark… About this…" My partner nudged me with his elbow, glancing toward the registration form.
He was telling me it was up to me how I wanted to handle it. Keeping a cold face, I aimed my body camera toward the foot of the bed.
"Handle it by the book. No special treatment."
"Mark Russ!" She suddenly struggled against the handcuffs. "What kind of brother-in-law are you? Alex is only 20! If he ends up in jail, his whole life will be ruined!"
Her eyes reddened as she spoke, but my expression did not change.
I said calmly, "When have you ever treated me like family? Carolyn…let's get a divorce."