Chapter 2 - The Five-Minute Ultimatum
The five minutes did not pass in a blur; they stretched out like thick, suffocating tar.
My father, Richard, looked at my hand gripping his wrist, then up at the sleek black dome of the security camera nestled under the patio eaves. His jaw tightened, a telltale twitch appearing near his temple—the same twitch I used to watch with terror when I was a teenager, waiting for the storm to break. But the storm didn't come. I was no longer a frightened fifteen-year-old trapped in his hallway. I was a thirty-five-year-old business owner, a mother, and a wife.
"You think a camera scares me?" Richard sneered, though he stepped back, pulling his wrist from my grip. "I have lawyers, Maya. Real ones. Not the strip-mall kind you probably use. Elder abandonment is a serious charge in this state. I have medical bills. I have rights."
"You have four minutes," I said, my voice as steady as a flatline.
Behind me, my husband, David, stepped up. David is not a loud man, but he is built like an oak tree and possesses a quiet authority that commands respect. He placed a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder, his eyes locked onto Richard.
"I don't know who you think you are," David said, his voice deep and dangerously calm, "but you are trespassing on private property, disrupting a minor's birthday party, and harassing my wife. If you are not outside that gate in three minutes, I won't just call the police—I will personally escort you to the curb. And I promise you, it won't be gentle."
Richard's eyes flicked to David, assessing the threat. He realized quickly that he was outnumbered and outmatched in physical presence. He let out a dry, rattling laugh and adjusted the lapels of his cheap gray suit.
"Fine," Richard spit out, looking past us at Noah, who was now clutching his balloon tightly, sensing the tension. "Keep your little bubble. But you’ll be hearing from my representation, Maya. Fifty thousand is a discount. When the courts get involved, I’ll take half of everything that 'little company' of yours is worth. Happy birthday, kid," he added mockingly toward Noah before turning on his heel and marching out the wooden side gate, letting it slam shut behind him.
The moment the latch clicked, the heavy silence hanging over our backyard shattered. The chatter of the other parents resumed, though it was hushed and strained. They had seen the exchange, even if they hadn't heard the words.
"Mommy?" Noah whispered, tugging on my jeans. "Who was that angry man?"
I knelt down, looking into my son's bright, innocent eyes. I took a deep breath, forcing the ice in my veins to melt into warmth. "Just someone who got lost, sweetie. He’s gone now. Are you ready to blow out your candles?"
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"Yeah!" Noah’s attention immediately shifted back to the dinosaur cake.
As the kids gathered around the table and began singing, David squeezed my hand. I sang along, smiling for my son, but my mind was already racing. Richard wasn't the type to make empty threats. He was lazy, greedy, and desperate. A desperate, greedy man with a grudge is a dangerous thing.
