Chapter 10 - Fractured Foundations
Mom rushed out of the room, dropping to her knees beside Dad, wrapping her arms around his trembling shoulders. "Arthur... it's over, they're gone, Arthur, look at me."
"It's not over," I said, uncocking the revolver carefully and placing it on the high shelf of the linen closet, out of reach. "Go into the room, Mom. Lock the door. Chloe, get in there with her."
Chloe emerged from the bedroom, her face pale as parchment, looking at me not with the disdain she had carried for years, but with pure, unadulterated shame. She looked down at Dad weeping on the floor, then turned to Marcus, who was trying to slip quietly toward the back stairs.
"Marcus," Chloe said, her voice hollow, devoid of life.
Marcus froze, his hand on the doorknob leading to the attic. He didn't turn around.
"Did you take Grandma's watch?" she asked.
"Chloe, I was trying to save our future—"
"Did you take it?!" she screamed, the sound tearing through the quiet house like shattered glass.
Marcus slowly turned his head. His boyish charm, the sleek confidence that had bewitched my sister and fooled my mother, was completely gone. In its place was the hollow, dead-eyed expression of an addict cornered in his own web.
"Your father's sitting on three hundred grand in equity," Marcus spat, his voice dropping into a nasty, spiteful sneer. "He wouldn't lend us ten thousand for the condo down payment, but he hoards it in this rotting wooden box! Vance had the right idea. Take the equity out, invest it in the Euclid games, triple it, and pay it back before anyone noticed. But you—" he pointed a trembling, sweat-slicked finger at me, "you had to dig around. You had to play the honest son."
"You're a parasite," I said, walking toward him.
Marcus flinched, throwing his hands up. "Touch me and I'll press charges! I didn't break down that door!"
"You don't have to touch him, Elias," Dad's voice came from behind.
Arthur pushed himself up from the floor, using Mom’s shoulder for support. He stood upright, breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on the man he had welcomed at his Sunday dinner table for two years.
"Chloe," Dad said softly, never breaking his gaze from Marcus. "Take your car keys out of your purse."
Chloe blinked through her tears, reaching blindly into her pocket and pulling out the silver keychain.
"Give them to your brother," Dad commanded.
She handed them to me without a word.
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"Now, Marcus," Dad continued, his voice terrifyingly calm, the voice of a man who had faced death on an assembly line and lived through strikes and poverty. "You have two minutes to walk out that front door on your own feet. If you are still in this township by dawn, I won't call the police. I will call Vance's creditors and tell them exactly where you're hiding."
Marcus stared at him, realized there was no leverage left, no lies that could save him. He snatched his coat from the floor and bolted down the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the drafty foyer before the remnants of the front door slammed shut behind him.
