Chapter 8 - The Desperate Visit
The heavy downpour of rain beat relentlessly against our living room windows that evening. Maya was nursing quietly in my arms when the front doorbell rang—not a polite chime, but an aggressive, repetitive pounding.
Ethan immediately moved to the entryway, checking the security monitor. His jaw hardened. "It's your mother."
I buttoned my cardigan, laying Maya gently into her swing. "Let her in. But keep the door to the office closed."
When Ethan opened the front door, Helen practically tumbled inside. Her hair was soaked, her makeup running in messy grey streaks down her hollow cheeks. The polished, elegant suburban matriarch was completely gone. In her place was a frantic, terrified woman clutching a damp designer purse.
"Olivia! Thank God you're home!" Helen cried, rushing toward the living room before Ethan stepped firmly into her path, forcing her to stop on the foyer rug.
"Keep your voice down," Ethan warned coldly. "The baby is sleeping."
Helen swallowed hard, her manicured fingers digging into the straps of her bag. "Olivia, please. You have to speak to Richard. He’s locked himself in the den with a bottle of scotch. The bank sent an immediate default notice on the mortgage today. The Lexus was towed on Friday. Madison’s father-in-law pulled their investment from Darren’s law firm after what happened at the hospital! Darren is threatening to leave Madison! They’re blaming us!"
"They’re blaming you because you lied to them, Mom," I said, leaning against the archway of the living room. "You pretended you were wealthy benefactors funding their high-society lifestyle on my dime and Grandma’s stolen money."
Helen froze. Her eyes darted wildly. "What... what did you say?"
"Marcus Vance finished the forensic audit this morning," I said calmly. "Four hundred and twenty thousand dollars, Mom. Dad embezzled nearly half a million dollars from Grandma's hospice accounts."
All the color drained from Helen’s face, leaving her a ghastly shade of grey. She stumbled back against the front door, clutching her throat. "You... you know?"
"Did you think nobody would look?" Ethan asked coldly. "Did you think because Olivia was generous and forgiving, the legal system wouldn't notice half a million dollars vanishing into Darren's law firm and Madison's lavish parties?"
"It was Richard's idea!" Helen suddenly wailed, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "He said Evelyn owed it to him! He said Evelyn always loved you more, that she favored you over Madison, and that he was just taking his rightful advance! Olivia, if the police get involved, Richard will die in prison! His heart can't take it! You can't do this to your own father!"
"He tried to rob my daughter in a hospital hallway while I was bleeding out," I whispered, stepping closer to her. "Where was your concern for my heart then, Mom? Where was your concern when I was sitting alone in Room 408 listening to you celebrate down the hall?"
"I made a mistake!" Helen sobbed, dropping to her knees on my entryway floor. "Please, Olivia! Just tell the lawyers to drop it! We’ll sell our house! We'll give you whatever we get from the sale! Just don't send your father to prison!"
"The house is underwater, Helen," Ethan stated flatly. "You took out a second mortgage last year. The house has negative equity. You have nothing to give."
I looked down at my mother, kneeling in my foyer, weeping not because she had hurt me, but because the consequences of her greed had finally caught up to her.
"Get up, Mom," I said coldly.
Helen looked up with desperate hope in her eyes. "You'll help us?"
May you like
"No," I replied. "Get up, and get out of my house. Marcus Vance is filing the criminal referral with the prosecutor's office at nine o'clock tomorrow morning."
***
