Two men in dark suits, wearing federal badges on lanyards around their necks, stepped into the corridor. They marched directly toward Mark, their faces grim and entirely devoid of pity.

“Mark Vance?” the lead federal agent barked, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his belt.

Mark spun around, his eyes wide with sheer, inescapable horror. “No! Wait! It was a misunderstanding! I was going to pay it back!”

“You are under arrest for felony wire fraud, grand larceny, and identity theft,” the agent recited loudly, grabbing Mark’s arm and violently twisting it behind his back.

The sharp, cold click-click of the handcuffs ratcheting shut echoed brutally down the hallway.

As Mark fell to his knees on the linoleum, weeping loudly and hysterically, begging for a mercy Victoria had permanently erased from her vocabulary, I watched the entire scene through the soundproof glass window of my hospital suite.