Chapter 3 - The Coward’s ReturnI pressed my thumb against the trembling screen to accept the call.
“Ava?!” Ethan’s voice exploded from the tiny speaker, frantic, breathless, and soaked in absolute panic. “Ava, what the hell is going on?! Why did my corporate Amex just get flagged for fraud? Why did the concierge at the hotel tell me my room reservation was canceled due to account suspension? And why did my mother just call me hysterically crying that a team of lawyers and paramedics kicked her out of the house?!”
I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to steady itself despite the lingering fever chills. “I’m in the hospital, Ethan.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. For a second, there was dead silence, save for the sound of high-speed highway wind rushing past his car window.
“In the… in the hospital?” Ethan stammered, his tone shifting instantly from furious interrogation to oily concern. “Baby, what happened? Are you okay? Why didn't you call me? I was in meetings all day—my phone was on silent during the pitch meeting with the Southeast regional directors—”
“You weren't in meetings, Ethan,” Jonathan cut in smoothly, leaning over so his voice captured the microphone clearly.
The line went completely dead silent.
“Who… who is that?” Ethan’s voice dropped an octave, dripping with sudden venom. “Is that… is that Reed? What is my wife’s lawyer doing there? Ava, what have you been telling him? Have you been whining to your trust fund managers again because my mother asked you to help around the house?”
“Your mother didn’t ask me to help around the house, Ethan,” I said, my voice hardening as the memory of her pulling me out of bed with a 104-degree fever rushed back into my mind. “She walked into my bedroom while I was delirious, ripped the blankets off my burning body, screamed at me to stop faking, and dragged me across the floor by my wrist when I couldn't stand up. And while I was lying there choking on my own breath, you were three hundred miles away in Atlanta.”
“That’s… that’s a lie!” Ethan shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. “My mother would never—she loves you like a daughter! You’re twisting things because you’ve always resented her living near us! Put my wife on the phone right now, Reed, or I swear to God I’ll—!”
“You’ll what, Mr. Mercer?” Jonathan interrupted, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy whisper. “You’ll sue me? With what money? Your personal checking account currently has a balance of four dollars and twelve cents. Your corporate cards are blacklisted. Your mother’s retirement fund, which was supplemented by illegal diversion from the Carter Trust, has been frozen pending a federal audit for wire fraud and elder abuse facilitation.”
Ethan let out a choked sound—half gasp, half sob. “You can’t do that… that’s my family’s money! That’s our life!”
“It was never your money, Ethan,” Jonathan said softly. “And by the time the sun comes up tomorrow morning, you won’t even have a key to the front door.”
Jonathan reached out and tapped the red end-call button on the screen. The room went quiet again, save for the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor.
I looked at Jonathan, my chest heavy. “Can he really lose everything?”
May you like
Jonathan closed his manila folder with a sharp snap.
“Ava, your father was a brilliant man, but he knew human nature,” Jonathan said, looking me dead in the eye. “He told me the day you got married: ‘Jonathan, if that boy ever treats my daughter like a possession instead of a partner, strip him down to the clothes on his back and throw him out into the rain.’ Ethan is about to find out how thoroughly your father planned for that exact rainy day.”
Related Stories
