Chapter 3 - The True Colors
The dining room door swung slightly open, revealing Sarah and Dylan standing frozen in the threshold. Sarah had tears in her eyes, clutching her little brother’s hand. Dylan looked terrified, holding his stuffed bear against his chest.
""Mom?"" Dylan asked in a tiny, trembling voice. ""Are we going to jail?""
""Go back in the room, Dylan!"" Linda barked, not even glancing at her terrified son. Her face was mottled with purple patches of fury and humiliation. ""Nobody is going to jail! This old witch is bluffing! She’s just trying to scare us because she knows she’s obsolete!""
""Watch your mouth, ma'am,"" Officer Vance said, his voice dropping into a stern command. ""You are addressing the legal resident of this home in the presence of law enforcement officers. Lower your voice immediately, or you will be placed in custody for disorderly conduct.""
Linda clamped her teeth together, her chest heaving beneath her expensive silk blouse. That blouse, I knew, had cost four hundred dollars at an upscale boutique on Michigan Avenue—bought with the credit card Edward had maxed out two weeks ago while claiming they had no money for groceries.
""Edward,"" I said, looking past the trembling woman to my only child. ""Did you really think I didn't know?""
Edward couldn't look at me. He stared at the brass umbrella stand by the door, his shoulders hunched as if expecting a physical blow.
""Know what, Mom?"" he mumbled.
""You didn't lose your job because of corporate downsizing,"" I said, my voice steady, carrying through the foyer like a tolling bell. ""David Miller called me three days ago from the accounting firm. David and your father were college roommates, Edward. He hired you as a personal favor to your dad.""
Edward flinched as if struck.
""He didn't fire you,"" I continued. ""He gave you the option to resign quietly after the firm discovered you had diverted sixty-eight thousand dollars from client escrow accounts into Linda’s failed online luxury boutique. David didn't press charges because he didn't want to break my heart. He covered the shortfall out of his own pocket and asked me to help you find counseling.""
Linda let out a shrill, hysterical laugh. ""Oh, isn't that sweet? The old boys' club protecting each other! You think sixty-eight thousand dollars is a big deal? That business was an investment! We were going to pay it back three times over once the influencer campaigns launched! But Edward panicked! He lost his nerve, and now we have collectors threatening to seize our cars!""
""So you decided to seize my house instead,"" I said.
""You're seventy years old!"" Linda shrieked, losing all remaining restraint. ""What do you need four bedrooms for? What do you need two million dollars in Lincoln Park real estate for? You sit here alone all day talking to ghost pictures of your dead husband! We have a future! Our children have private school tuition! We needed the equity! You should have handed it over gladly if you actually loved your son!""
Gabriella pulled another document from her folder, her pen clicking with a loud, ominous snap.
""Mrs. Mendoza,"" Gabriella interrupted, her tone colder than ice water. ""Since you have brought up the matter of your husband's debts, I believe you should also be aware of the secondary reason for my presence tonight.""
Linda crossed her arms, trying to look unimpressed, but her lower lip began to quiver. ""What are you talking about?""
""Two hours ago, my firm filed a formal petition for an emergency freeze on all joint accounts associated with Edward Mendoza, including the commercial accounts under 'Luxe Living LLC'—your registered business entity,"" Gabriella said. ""Furthermore, the Cook County State's Attorney’s Financial Crimes Division has been forwarded the complete paper trail regarding the forged power of attorney Edward attempted to use at First Midwest Bank last month.""
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Edward dropped to his knees right there in the hallway. ""Mom... no... please. Mom, please don't let them put me in prison. Please! I have the kids!""
""You had the kids when you let your wife order me to eat on the porch,"" I said, feeling no pity, only a vast, hollow sorrow for the boy I had raised who had turned into this hollow, spineless shadow.
