Chapter 8 - The Collapse of the Empire
The dominoes fell with terrifying speed after the deposition video was leaked to the financial press—anonymously, of course, though I had a strong suspicion Arthur’s office had something to do with it.
The Maritime Commission immediately pulled Mr. Vanguard’s name from consideration for the federal appointment, citing a "gross lack of family integrity." Two weeks later, his major business partners forced him to resign from the board of the shipping conglomerate he had spent thirty years building.
Celeste’s husband filed for divorce within a month, citing fraud and the catastrophic loss of his hedge fund’s capital. He didn't want to be tied to a convicted felon, and his prenuptial agreement was watertight.
In the criminal trial, Celeste pled guilty to lesser charges of felony assault in exchange for a reduced sentence. The judge, entirely unmoved by her family's prestige, sentenced her to three years in a medium-security women’s correctional facility.
Marcus’s fate was decided by his peers. The State Medical Board revoked his license to practice medicine for a minimum of five years, citing gross ethical violations and failure to protect a patient under his direct care. Without his medical career and cut off from his family's frozen assets, he took a job as an insurance claims adjuster in a small town three states away, living in a rented apartment that looked remarkably like the ones his mother had once called "hovels."
The Vanguard name didn't exist anymore. It was just a cautionary tale whispered in the corners of the country club they could no longer afford to attend.
On the day Celeste was processed into prison, I stood on the porch of my little cottage beyond the final mailbox. The winter had passed, and the early spring air smelled of damp earth and blooming lilacs.
Arthur’s car pulled up the driveway. He got out, stepped onto the porch, and handed me a final piece of paper. It was the judgment from the civil suit.
Ordered: The defendants shall pay the sum of five million dollars to a protected trust for Maya Vance and her unborn child, with all legal fees covered entirely by the defense.
“Is it over?” I asked.
May you like
Arthur smiled, his eyes softening as he looked past me into the house, where Maya was laughing at something on the television.
“It’s over, Evy,” he said. “Daddy would be proud.”
