Chapter 16 - Echoes of the Past
The peace of the Costa estate was briefly interrupted on a Tuesday afternoon by an unannounced visit that felt like a ghost walking out of a nightmare.
Diane Hayes stood outside the wrought-iron security gates, looking nothing like the polished, wealthy socialite she had once been. Her designer clothes were rumpled and stained; her hair was unstyled, and her face was ravaged by stress and cheap cigarettes.
Arthur’s security team called up to the main house immediately.
"Shall we have her removed, Mrs. Costa?" the head guard asked over the intercom.
Nora looked up from her desk in the study. She stared at the security monitor showing her mother shivering in the spring drizzle. Richard Hayes was rotting in a federal penitentiary for financial fraud and racketeering, and Diane had been completely abandoned by the syndicate high society that once courted her.
"No," Nora said calmly. "Bring her in. Put her in the small reception parlor."
Ten minutes later, Nora walked into the cold, formal parlor. Diane sat on the edge of a velvet settee, wringing her hands nervously, looking around the opulent room with wide, desperate eyes.
When Nora entered, Diane scrambled to her feet, rushing forward as if to embrace her. Nora held up a single hand, stopping her dead in her tracks.
"Don't," Nora said, her voice like cold steel.
Diane burst into tears, her face crumpling. "Nora! Thank God! You have to help me, sweetheart! The bank foreclosed on the manor. I have nowhere to go! Your father is locked away, and everyone we knew turned their backs on us! We're family, Nora. You can't let your own mother starve on the streets!"
Nora crossed her arms, looking down at the woman who had watched her father sell her off like a defective piece of machinery without shedding a single tear.
"When Dr. Aerys told you my medical diagnosis—when you found out I couldn't have children—what did you call me, Diane?" Nora asked softly, her voice terrifyingly calm.
Diane froze, her breath catching in her throat.
"You called me a scratched car before a trade-in," Nora continued, stepping closer. "You told my father to auction me off to the highest bidder in a smoky cigar lounge. You didn't care if I lived or died, as long as your bills were paid and your social status remained intact."
"I was desperate!" Diane sobbed, falling to her knees on the Persian rug. "Please, Nora! Have mercy!"
"Mercy is something you earn, Diane," Nora said, her expression entirely devoid of pity.
She turned toward the doorway, where two guards stood waiting.
"Escort Mrs. Hayes off the property," Nora ordered coldly. "And make sure she receives this."
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Nora pulled a thick white envelope from her blazer pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table. Inside was a cashier's check for fifty thousand dollars—enough to secure a small, modest apartment and a fresh start anywhere outside of Chicago, accompanied by a legally binding document waiving any future contact.
"Take it, buy a ticket out of this city, and never look back," Nora said, looking down at her mother one last time. "As of today, you have no daughter, and I have no parents. We are completely square."
