Chapter 4 - Desperate Pleadings
The financial freeze hit them faster than they anticipated.
By Tuesday morning, the automated system rejected Melissa’s attempt to pay for her luxury SUV lease. By Wednesday, my mother’s credit cards—which were secondary cards tied to my corporate account—were completely declined at an upscale country club.
I woke up on Thursday to twenty-seven missed calls and dozens of panicked text messages.
Diane (Mom): Claire, answer your phone! This is ridiculous! The bank said the transfers were canceled! I need my medication money!
Melissa: You are a monster! You're throwing your own nephew onto the street?! You can't evict us! I'm telling everyone what a terrible mother and daughter you are!
I didn't reply to a single message. Instead, I handed the phone logs directly to my attorney, Richard Vance—who happened to be the older brother of Officer Vance from that fateful night.
At 2:00 PM, a knock echoed through my front door. I looked at the security camera feed on my tablet. It was my mother and Melissa, their faces distorted with rage and panic.
I walked to the front door, keeping the heavy iron security gate locked between us.
“Claire! Open this door right now!” Diane demanded, her voice shrill. Gone was the frail, ailing woman she pretended to be. She was standing perfectly straight, holding a $3,000 designer handbag over her arm—a handbag purchased with my money.
“You have five seconds to leave my porch before I press the silent alarm for trespassing,” I said through the intercom speaker.
“We are your family!” Melissa yelled, banging her fist against the glass. “You think you’re better than us just because David left you money?! You owe us! Mom raised you!”
“Mom used me,” I corrected calmly. “And you stole from my daughter's future. The $12,000 a month for Oakridge? I spoke to the facility yesterday, Mom. They’ve never heard of you.”
Diane’s face drained of color. Her jaw worked soundlessly for a moment before she tried a different tactic. She squeezed out a few tears, bowing her head. “Claire... baby, please. Melissa made a mistake. She forced me into it. I’m old, I’m sick... you can’t leave your mother with nothing.”
“You weren't too sick to watch two police officers frighten your five-year-old granddaughter,” I said, my voice cutting like broken glass. “You lost the right to call me your daughter the second you let them scare Sophie. Leave.”
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As they realized I wasn't budging, Melissa’s demeanor flipped back to pure malice. “We’re going to sue you! We’re going to take half of David’s estate! You’ll see us in court!”
“I look forward to it,” I replied, and turned off the intercom.
