Chapter 6 - The Emergency Family Council
Margaret Miller sat in the leather-paneled living room of her sprawling suburban estate in Winnetka, staring blankly at the muted television screen playing wall-to-wall coverage of her son’s impending felony arraignment.
Her phone rang continuously, but she lacked the strength to answer it. Friends of forty years had blocked her number. Country club memberships had been quietly revoked. The social elite of Chicago had closed ranks, erasing the Millers overnight.
The front door unlocked with a sharp click.
Richard walked in, his shoulders slumped, looking ten years older than he had a week ago. He tossed his briefcase onto the sofa and dropped heavily into an armchair.
"Did you talk to the defense attorney?" Margaret asked, her voice cracking. "Can he get Preston out on bail?"
"Bail was denied," Richard said flatly, staring at the Persian rug. "The judge cited flight risk and the severity of the unprovoked assault on a minor. Furthermore, the district attorney has added perjury and filing a false police report to the indictment."
Margaret buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. "How did this happen? We raised him to be a winner. We gave him everything."
"No, Margaret," Richard said, his voice hard with a sudden, bitter realization. "We raised a monster. And we spent thirty years telling ourselves he was an angel because we couldn't bear to admit we were failures as parents."
He looked up, his bloodshot eyes fixing on his wife.
"And Evelyn. Have you tried calling Evelyn?"
May you like
Margaret stiffened. "After the way she humiliated us? After she dragged her own brother out of his wedding in handcuffs?"
"She has our granddaughter, Margaret," Richard shouted, slamming his fist against the armrest. "And right now, Evelyn holds all the cards in this city. If we don't fix this—if you don't go down there and beg her for forgiveness—we will die alone in this house, completely forgotten by the world."
