Chapter 7 - The Summoning
Two weeks later, the legal counter-offensive reached its first major milestone.
I sat across from our attorney, Marcus Vance—no relation to the corrupt notary, thankfully—in his glass-walled conference office overlooking downtown Nashville. Across the mahogany table sat two federal prosecutors and a representative from the state banking commission.
“The case is airtight, Mr. Bradley,” Prosecutor Miller said, flipping through a thick binder filled with bank statements, forged signatures, and audio transcripts from the police dashcams on the night of the party. “Your mother and your cousin Mason systematically drained over one hundred and eight thousand dollars from your family accounts over a thirty-six-month period, using sophisticated shell corporations and forged real estate instruments.”
“What about the house deed?” I asked.
“Null and void,” Prosecutor Miller replied with a confident smirk. “The notary public who signed off on the transfer has already flipped in exchange for a reduced sentence on unrelated mortgage fraud charges. He signed an affidavit stating your mother threatened him with exposure over an old DUI if he didn’t process the fraudulent deed.”
“And Teresa?”
“She’s being arraigned this afternoon on six felony counts: grand larceny, identity theft, forgery, real estate fraud, conspiracy, and reckless endangerment of a minor regarding your son’s medical neglect.” Prosecutor Miller closed the binder. “She’s refusing a plea deal. She still believes her lawyer can get her off by claiming maternal privilege and mental incompetence.”
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I didn't feel joy. I didn't feel triumph. I just felt a profound, heavy sense of closure. You cannot negotiate with emotional vampires who believe they own your life simply because they gave birth to you.
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