Chapter 148: I’m Guilty
Liam’s POV
The echo of the visiting room door slamming shut echoed through my chest like a funeral bell. I stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the metal door through which Diane had disappeared with our children,still unable to fully process that those beautiful babies were mine.
"Move it, Ashton!" The guard’s voice cut through my stupor. "Visitation’s over."
I shuffled back to my cell block, my legs moving mechanically while my mind remained trapped in that moment when Diane’s face had crumpled with rage and betrayal. The look in her eyes when I’d confessed about Sophie... it wasn’t anger. It was something worse. It was the death of whatever tiny shred of respect or pity she might have still harbored for me.
"I hope you rot in this prison."
Her words played on repeat in my head as I made my way through the familiar corridors. Other inmates glanced at me with curious expressions, word traveled fast in here, and I could already see the whispers starting. Whatever small acceptance I’d managed to earn over the past months was about to evaporate.
I barely made it to my cell before the tears started again. Great, heaving sobs. I collapsed onto my narrow cot, pressing my face into the thin pillow to muffle the sound. The last thing I needed was to give the other inmates more ammunition against me.
But the tears wouldn’t stop. They came in waves, each one carrying a different weight of regret. For Sophie, who had died protecting my children while I was the one who had ordered her death. For Diane, who had loved me with everything she had while I destroyed that love. For Dylan and Danielle, who would grow up knowing their father as a monster.
"Yo, Liam! You in there, man?"
I recognized Michael’s voice outside my cell. Over the past few months, he’d become something close to a friend, as close as you could get in a place like this. He was serving time for armed robbery, but he had a daughter on the outside who was about Dylan’s age, and we’d bonded over our shared regret about the children we’d failed.
"Yeah," I called back, trying to steady my voice. "I’m here."