117 Professional Ethics

How did one get so selfish? How did one think only of themselves when they had committed such heinous crimes against another person? 

She noticed me much later than expected, only when I took a seat beside Sebastian. Her face twisted into a rage and she clenched her fist. Seeing how my eyes traveled down to see them, she quickly pulled them under the table in a manner of defense. 

The stage was set. I knew that she was going to withhold as much information as she could so as to save herself.

"Your name please," I asked, my voice level and calm. I was surprised that I could hold in my feelings. They almost overwhelmed me. First, it was the abuse and neglect of a child who had become a murderer and then the look on her face that insulted every mother on the planet, and dare I say me. She had no business being this carefree.

"I will tell you nothing," she hissed at me. 

"Why not?" I asked, my voice still calm.

"I don't know how you manipulated my daughter to say things against me, but she is lying!" she said once again. I tried my best to keep in the ticking of my jaw. I was very easily irritated with this woman. 

"That is why we must talk to you and confirm what is real and what is not," Sebastian interjected before I could formulate a reply. She turned to him with dreamy eyes and nodded. 

"Thank you for understanding me. That girl is nothing but a manipulative bitch. She's been hell-bent on ruining my life since she was born." She sighed as if her life was tragic.

"Can you start with your name? We will listen to every word you have to say," Sebastian promised. I knew the tactic he was using. He was using her amour towards him to make everything into a confession. Like a sinner talking to the father in the church to absolve them. He was giving her a chance to confess and make known her side of the story so that she didn't look as bad as Carol had painted her out to be. 

The age-old trick, just with a new twist.

"Grace Myers," she said finally. 

"And what is your age?" Sebastian asked. There was no point in me asking any questions as she would be affronted and rebel against anything I said or insinuated. Because I had interviewed Carol, I would have to sit in, but my presence was more of a hindrance. 

I stared at the side of his face and wanted to kick his foot in irritation. So, the bad cop was my role. 

"I am twenty-five-years old. I had my daughter when I was seventeen and got pregnant the year before." She giggled nervously. "The father was a popular soccer player in high school. We had a romp now and then and I ended up like a dumb teenager, pregnant and having to drop out of school to hide what I had done. My mother wasn't pleased. Thank god, they passed away soon and left the house to me."

What an evil woman, thanking the heavens for her parent's demise.

"It must have been hard raising a girl on your own. Can you tell me what your usual routine looks like?" he asked. 

She bit her lip as her eyes roamed over the room. She was cooking up a story that would be believable but from what she knew, nothing would absolve her of her crime. 

"My usual day starts with me waking up and showering and then I make some food for the brat. Which she never eats, for some reason, and then I start work for the day." 

"Right, thank you... what do you make for breakfast or lunch or dinner?" he asked. 

"I don't have much time because I work a lot, so I usually go with milk and bananas and bread." Sebastian quietened down. 

"Why don't you make anything else or ask someone to help out?" he asked. 

"I don't have the money to," she said. "Would I be working so hard and taking care of a child alone if I had the money to get a babysitter?" she asked. 

Sebastian kicked my chair. I knew it was my cue to speak up. 

"We only found bread, bananas, and milk in your house. You have admitted to the same, hence I will have to point out to you that you are not providing enough nutrition to your child. The child needs to have twelve hundred calories a day and all five food groups which you have not been able to give her. We have also confirmed with Carol that you rarely pack a lunch for school or give her money. You have fed her only one meal a day on most days and neglected your duty to feed your child." The woman was about to speak up again. 

"Grace, do you have anything to say?" Sebastian interjected before I could say more. 

"She lied. I give her food. I know it is not much but I can't afford other meals," her voice shook. Another lie. 

"You collected all your bills and receipts, Grace. We know what you bring as grocery and we know all the takeout you order and eat yourself without giving it to your child. Why?" he asked softly. 

She remained silent for a long time. "Tell me, Grace. Everything looks so bad for you. Give me a reason to believe that you are not starving your child purposefully." 

She gulped. "She doesn't eat what I give her. And she talks back all the time. She screams and that creepy look in her eye. God, I hate it. I feel like she will kill me in my sleep so I punish her. She knows that she will only get full meals when she is a good girl."

Everything was piling up. "Okay, but why doesn't she eat what you give her?" Sebastian asked. She shook her head. 

"I don't know. I don't know when it started. But the more she refused the food, the angrier I got." She pressed her hand on her face to hide it. 

"Is it because of the sleeping pills?" I asked her, my voice barely above a whisper. 

She shuddered. "I don't know what you are talking about," her voice was guttural. 

"Did you give her sleeping pills?" Sebastian asked. 

"No..." Grace said. But she knew it was futile. Anyone could check her prescriptions and know that she had consumed more than what was prescribed. "I... I told you... she scares me. So, I gave her pills to make her sleep."

I pressed my lips together in disbelief. 

"Why are you scared of her?" Sebastian asked. 

"Ever since she was born... she has been different from other children. At first, I thought she was dumb but when she learned everything rapidly and spoke eloquently, I couldn't understand why she was that way..." 

"What way?" Sebastian coaxed. 

"She... her eyes are empty, you know? And she doesn't read people well. She talks about death and destruction so easily. I was scared. And she hates me, she does!" she sobbed. "I just wanted to punish her so that she would get better, you know?" And that she hates her daughter for ruining the fun in her life. 

"What else did you do to punish her, Grace?" Sebastian asked. 

"I... she walked in on me with one of my clients one day and she just watched us. I was so creeped out that I wanted her to leave but the client... he insisted she watches. The guy kept coming back and beating her up and I just couldn't stop him."

She sang like a bird. She said every little thing every person had done to the child. How she had gone a little crazy when the clients wanted to see her daughter more than her. And then she spoke about how Carol had been curious about everything...

"She's a monster," she choked out. I scribbled into the notepad, feeling sorry for Carol. This woman was her age and already had a daughter as big as Carol. She was overwhelmed and she hadn't grown out of her high school personality. She had taken up sex work because she enjoyed sex and thought it was the easiest way to make money. And her services ranged from different kinks to bondage and domination.

"We will need you to write down the names of all your clients," I demanded. "If they engaged in sexual activity in front of a minor, they have committed crimes." My goal was to reach the man in the white shirt. This was the easiest way. 

"I can't do that! That is against my professional ethics. I may sell my body, but I don't sell information." Sebastian put his hand on my knee to reassure me.