Chapter 7 - THE MIDNIGHT VISITATIONSaturday night at 11:45 PM, a frantic, persistent pounding echoed against my apartment door.
I paused, setting my book down on the coffee table. I walked cautiously toward the hallway, looking through the peephole.
It wasn't the police. It was my father.
He looked ten years older than he had on Friday morning. His hair was disheveled, his coat was half-buttoned, and he was shivering uncontrollably in the dim hallway light.
I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open just a few inches, keeping the security chain firmly attached.
"Naomi," he breathed, his voice cracking with desperation. "Please... open the door. Let me in. Please."
"What are you doing here, Dad?" I asked, my voice devoid of warmth.
"We’re staying at a cheap motel off the highway," he cried, his eyes filling with tears. "Derek... Derek lost his mind. He smashed a hole in the kitchen wall because the police wouldn't let him back into the house. Your mother is sitting on the edge of the bed crying, refusing to speak. The bank froze all our accounts because of Derek's hidden debts. Naomi... we have nothing left."
"You have Derek," I replied coldly. "He's your golden child. The head of the household."
"He's a monster!" my father sobbed, hitting his fist weakly against the doorframe. "He screamed at your mother for hours, blaming her for everything! He took the last of our cash and drove off to a casino two hours ago! Naomi, please... drop the lawsuit. Give us back the house. We'll sign it over to you completely. Just save us."
I looked at the man who had stood silently by while my mother called me a parasite and threw my life into boxes.
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"You had a choice, Dad," I whispered. "Every single day for three years, you chose him. Now you get to lie in the bed you both made."
I unlatched the chain, pushed the heavy oak door closed in his face, and engaged the deadbolt with a solid, echoing click.
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