Chapter 9 - Handcuffs on the Front Lawn

Julian fell to his knees beside his mother, tears of absolute panic streaming down his face. ""Elena, please! We didn't know! Mom told me you had gone to a private clinic! She told me you wanted to be left alone! I swear I didn't know the door was locked!""
""You stood in the driveway and listened to me scream Maria's name, Julian,"" I said, looking at my younger brother without an ounce of anger—only complete, absolute indifference. ""You heard the deadbolt turn, and then you loaded your luggage into the car and dreamed about how you were going to spend my money on sports cars and European clubs.""
""I am your mother!"" Margaret screamed from the grass, her composure shattering into wild, feral rage. ""I gave you life! Everything you have belongs to me by right! You owe me! You can't put me out on the street like a stray dog!""
""You didn't put me out on the street, Margaret,"" I replied quietly. ""You locked me in a windowless room with no water and no electricity in the middle of a Louisiana summer and boarded a flight across an ocean. You didn't treat me like a stray dog. You treated me like something you wanted dead.""
One of the state troopers stepped down the stairs, pulling two pairs of heavy steel handcuffs from his tactical belt. Behind him, a second squad car pulled into the driveway, its red and blue lights flashing silently against the oak trees.
""Margaret Barrett, Julian Barrett,"" the lead trooper announced formally, stepping behind the kneeling young man. ""You are both being placed under arrest pursuant to an indictment issued by the East Baton Rouge Parish Grand Jury. The charges include attempted first-degree murder, felony endangerment of an adult with a disability, and interstate conspiracy to commit fraud.""
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""No! Get your hands off me!"" Julian wailed, thrashing wildly as the officer forced his hands behind his back and clicked the cuffs securely around his wrists. ""Mom, do something! Call someone!""
Margaret tried to scramble to her feet, but the second trooper caught her firmly by the arm, securing her wrists behind her back before she could take another step. The designer sunglasses fell to the ground, crushed beneath the heel of the officer’s boot. For the first time in her life, Margaret was not the grand socialite presiding over a country club gala; she was a criminal suspect in handcuffs, being escorted toward the back of a police cruiser in full view of the entire neighborhood.