Chapter 4 - The 9:00 AM Courthouse ShowdownThe Franklin County Courthouse was buzzing with the frantic energy of Monday morning litigants. I walked through the security metal detectors wearing an oversized hoodie to hide my taped ribs, Detective Vance flanking my left side, and a court-appointed legal aid lawyer named Julian Thorne on my right.
Wait—Thorne?
My breath caught as a tall, impeccably tailored man in a charcoal Armani suit stepped out of courtroom 3B. It was Marcus Thorne, Brenda’s high-priced attorney. And judging by the smug, arrogant smirk he wore, he already knew we were coming.
"Madison Vance, I presume?" Marcus asked, his voice dripping with condescension as he adjusted his gold-plated cufflinks. "My clients, Brenda and the incarcerated Derek Vance, are filing an immediate injunction against your fraudulent harassment claims. Furthermore, we are seeking a restraining order to keep you away from family assets."
Before I could speak, Julian Thorne stepped forward, his expression cold. "Drop the act, Marcus. I pulled the property filings an hour ago. The signature on the quitclaim deed isn't just forged—it was witnessed by a notary whose license expired six months ago."
Marcus’s smirk faltered for a microsecond before he recovered with practiced ease. "Proving forgery takes months, Counselor. Meanwhile, my clients hold occupancy rights, and your fragile little client has nowhere to live."
"She has somewhere to live," a deep, authoritative voice echoed down the marble hallway.
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We all turned. Striding toward us was a silver-haired man in an expensive bespoke suit, accompanied by two junior associates carrying bulging leather briefcases. It was Julian’s senior partner, but more importantly, he was clutching a certified federal document.
"Good morning, Marcus," the senior partner smiled frostily. "I represent the Federal Estate Tax Division. We’ve just seized the Vance family estate under suspicion of multi-state wire fraud and elder financial abuse. Nobody is selling anything today."
