Chapter 6 - The Cold Walk
The cold night air hit the foyer like a bucket of ice water as Officer Vance pushed the front door open. Outside, the Chicago street was silent, save for the hum of the officers' idling patrol car and the distant roar of traffic on the Kennedy Expressway.
Linda tried to pull her arm away from Vance's grip, but the officer held her firm, escorting her step by step down the porch stairs Anthony had painted every autumn. Her expensive heels clicked awkwardly on the concrete walkway.
""Edward!"" Linda screamed, looking back over her shoulder. Her face was distorted with rage and terror. ""Tell them to let me go! You can't let them do this! Who is going to pay for my hotel? Who is going to pay for my life?""
Edward didn't move from the bottom step of the staircase. He stared at his hands, silent as a statue.
Officer Martinez followed behind Linda, carrying her two overstuffed suitcases. He set them down on the sidewalk just beyond the wrought-iron gate that marked the boundary of my property.
""Do not return to this property, Mrs. Mendoza,"" Officer Vance said, handing her a folded white paper. ""This is your copy of the emergency trespass warning. If you step foot past that gate, or if you attempt to contact the minor children Sarah and Dylan Mendoza without prior written authorization from the Cook County Family Court, you will be arrested on sight and remanded without bail.""
Linda snatched the paper and tore it in half, throwing the pieces onto the wet asphalt. ""This isn't over! You hear me, Hope? You haven't seen the last of me! I'll take everything you have! I'll take this house, I'll take your pension, and I'll make sure those kids hate you for the rest of their lives!""
""Get in a cab, ma'am,"" Officer Vance said, stepping back inside the gate and latching the black iron latch with a sharp, final click.
Linda stood on the sidewalk beneath the harsh glow of the streetlamp, surrounded by her luggage. For all her talk of power and status, she looked remarkably small, pathetic, and utterly alone. She pulled her phone from her purse, her fingers trembling so violently she nearly dropped it, desperately searching for anyone in her circle of superficial acquaintances who might answer a call at eight-twenty on a Tuesday night.
I closed the front door, turned the brass deadbolt, and slid the chain into place.
The foyer was warm again. The familiar scent of rosemary, slow-cooked beef, and warm sourdough bread filled the air. In the dining room, the candles had burned down halfway, their golden light reflecting off the crystal glasses and the good china that Linda had thought she could take from me.
Sarah came out of the kitchen holding Dylan’s hand. The little boy had stopped crying. He looked up at me with large, questioning eyes.
""Grandma?"" Dylan asked softly. ""Is Mom coming back tonight?""
I knelt down on the hardwood floor so I was eye-level with my grandson. I smoothed the collar of his little flannel shirt and gave him a warm, steady smile.
""No, sweetheart,"" I said gently. ""Your mom has some very important things she needs to take care of for a while. But you and Sarah are safe here. You're going to sleep in your dad's old bedroom tonight, where the big oak tree taps on the window. And tomorrow morning, I'm making blueberry pancakes before school.""
Dylan’s face brightened instantly. ""The ones with the cinnamon butter?""
""The very same,"" I promised, kissing his forehead. ""Now, why don't you two go into the living room and pick out a board game? Uncle David brought over Anthony's old Scrabble set last week.""
Sarah looked at me, a profound depth of understanding in her fourteen-year-old eyes that no child should ever have to possess. She leaned down, hugged me tightly around the neck, and whispered, ""Thank you, Grandma. Thank you for protecting us.""
""Always, my darling,"" I whispered back.
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As the children disappeared into the living room, Gabriella walked over to Edward, who was still sitting on the bottom step, staring blankly ahead. She held out a third document.
""Edward,"" Gabriella said, her voice dropping into a somber, serious tone. ""Your wife has been removed. But your situation is far from resolved.""
