Chapter 8 - Cleaning House
Over the next three weeks, Millbrook witnessed the total collapse of the Prescott dynasty.
The local newspaper, The Millbrook Herald, ran front-page exposés detailing the extensive criminal indictments handed down by the county grand jury. Brandon Prescott was charged with three counts of felony identity theft, two counts of bank fraud, and grand larceny. Richard Prescott faced multiple counts of securities fraud, tax evasion, and operating an unlicensed financial enterprise.
Victoria Vance’s father, the municipal planning commissioner, immediately issued a public statement severing all ties with the Prescott family, resigning from his post in disgrace when phone records revealed he had accepted illegal gifts—including that $8,200 platinum bracelet—in exchange for zoning favors. Victoria herself fled town to stay with relatives in Florida, entirely abandoning Brandon to his legal fate.
Meanwhile, Caroline and I spent our weekends packing up the five-bedroom colonial house.
Room by room, we stripped away the expensive, hollow decor Brandon had purchased on stolen credit. Caroline didn't keep a single piece of furniture he had chosen. Everything was cataloged and consigned to a high-end estate auction house in Columbus, with every penny generated slated to pay down the remaining secondary debts.
As we packed the dining room, Caroline stopped in front of the large mahogany table where the Thanksgiving dinner had taken place less than a month earlier. She picked up a small cardboard box from the sideboard. Inside, wrapped carefully in tissue paper, was the little ceramic turkey her sister had made in elementary school—the one she had stared at while I was lying on the floor.
She held it in her hands, her lower lip trembling.
""I remember staring at this turkey, Dad,"" she said softly. ""I remembered Mom setting it on our kitchen table next to your homemade pie. I remembered how safe our house always felt, even when money was tight and you had to work double shifts at the shop during the winter. And I realized that in this big, fancy house, with all these expensive things, I hadn't felt safe for even one single day.""
""You're safe now, Caroline,"" I said, taking the box from her and sealing it with packing tape. ""And this turkey goes back on my dining room table where it belongs.""
By mid-December, the colonial was sold to an executive relocating from Cleveland. After satisfying the original mortgage and clearing the fraudulent encumbrances, Frank Miller recovered $78,000 of my initial down payment and secured a court order placing a permanent lien on Richard Prescott’s remaining personal assets for the remainder.
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Brandon, sitting in the county jail unable to post his $250,000 cash bond, signed the uncontested divorce papers without uttering a single word. His court-appointed public defender advised him that contesting anything would only result in Caroline’s legal team pushing for maximum consecutive sentencing.
The parasite was finally, permanently cut out of our lives.
