Chapter 6 - The Ultimatum
Arthur dropped his hands to his sides, the last remnants of his defensive facade crumbling into dust. He looked at his mother—the woman who had raised him, supported him through his messy divorces, and bailed him out of financial trouble twenty years ago—and realized there was no escape hatch left.
“Mom... please,” Arthur whispered, taking a half-step forward and holding out his hands in a pathetic gesture of appeasement. “You don’t understand how bad things got. The business—the real market tanked. We were drowning in debt. If we didn't liquidate the house, we were going to lose everything. Everything!”
“So you decided to steal from the woman who gave you everything?” Grandma’s voice cut through his whining like a razor blade. “You didn't ask me, Arthur. You didn't come to me and say, 'Mom, I’m in trouble, can you help me?' You lied, you forged my signature, you hired a crooked notary, and you tried to throw me away like garbage.”
“We were going to pay it back!” Linda cried out, bursting into tears and covering her face with her hands. “Once the commercial property sold, we were going to put the money right back into your account! It was just a temporary bridge, Eleanor, I swear to God—”
“Save your breath, Linda,” I said, crossing my arms. “The bank already froze the accounts, and the compliance department is handing their file over to the prosecutor's office in the morning. Temporary or not, it’s grand larceny and elder abuse.”
Arthur spun around to face me, his eyes flashing with sudden, desperate fury. “You little bastard! You’re ruining our lives over this? This is family! Families take care of each other! You have no idea what it takes to run a household, to keep bills paid—”
“Don’t you dare lecture me about family while you’ve got a suitcase waiting in the trunk of your car for a nursing home lobby,” I shot back, stepping right up to him. He flinched, backing up a half-step. “You’re done, Dad. It’s over.”
Grandma walked over to the entryway table, picked up her brown leather purse, and pulled out a single, neatly folded sheet of paper.
She held it out toward Arthur. He didn't take it, so she let it drop onto the floor at his feet.
“What is that?” Arthur asked, his voice shaking.
“That is a drafted civil injunction and a notice of revocation of power of attorney,” Grandma said quietly. “Along with a formal demand for immediate restitution of every cent transferred out of my accounts, plus legal fees.”
May you like
She turned her back on them, walking toward the hallway that led to the master bedroom.
“You have until eight o'clock tomorrow morning to pack your things and get out of my house,” she said over her shoulder without breaking stride. “Because if you’re still breathing my air when the sun comes up, I’ll let the sheriff escort you out in handcuffs myself.”
