An appointment with destiny

It begins...

One by one, all her secrets spill out of a mouth downturned in shame, just as those glossy eyes are locked on the wavy pattern of the wood-paneled floor beneath her.

And I listen. This is what I'm here for.

My ears are open for business and allow every disconcerting syllable to filter directly to my brain, determining if there's any hope for Mrs. Diana Schwartz.

I need to understand.

I need reason to care.

I'm here to help her help herself...

She starts by offering an early glimpse of what it was like growing up in the bowels of poverty.

The humiliation. The sacrifice. The trouble... the lies.

A heightened tone of irritability projects when she begins displacing the blame on others, downplaying her role in any wrongdoing.

Classic denial syndrome —the incapacity to take responsibility.

Duly noted...

Life was hard for her growing up, I'll give her that. But it does not excuse the fact that she took advantage of the elderly, slowly draining their accounts in response to the minimum pay she took home for taking care of them. A wage that didn't equate to her so-called precious time.

Disgraceful... Unconscionable... Deplorable...

There are many other harsh words I could use to describe the deliberate participation in such acts.

Instead, I don’t judge. I listen. This is what I'm here for.

Diana moves on to a time she admits regretting...

During her 17th year on this planet, she makes a fake I.D. to buy alcohol for her and her underage friends. According to her, a friend, who remains nameless to me, died regurgitating in her sleep from consuming excessive amounts of moonshine. Although the victim's blood alcohol was twice the limit, it was ruled an accidental death. With much coercing, the other two girls kept quiet about what they knew of their friend’s death.

That was 20 years ago. Genuine remorse can be detected in Diana’s demeanor as she dredges up this awful memory.

Maybe there is a living conscious somewhere underneath those heavy layers of narcissistic greed...

The tears begin to flow rapidly. Contrition is taking place. Exactly what this is all about — coming out of her shell and dismantling the facade she lived behind all those many years together.

You see, my wife Diana led a double life. A Life I was completely unaware of until I was arrested and convicted of embezzling $300,000 from the firm.

She got me good, framing me to take the fall.

How I went from a small-town psychiatrist to an escaped convict, is beyond comprehension. But I'm living proof.

Even now, as I, Dr. Alton Schwartz points a gun to her head in exchange for her taped confessions, it may all be for naught. The house is surrounded by blue and red flashing lights.

Maybe they'll put 'Wrongly Convicted' on my head stone. I could care less what they put on hers...

At the very least, the audio recording will survive what I'm about to do...