Chapter 7 - The Eviction Notice
By late afternoon, the house was eerily quiet.
The security guards had successfully escorted Gertrude, Hailey, and the bewildered architect off the property. Brandon was currently sitting on the front porch steps with a single duffel bag, refusing to leave until his divorce lawyer called him back, but the police had already issued a temporary restraining order based on the domestic financial abuse and emotional neglect documentation I provided.
I sat at the kitchen island where, less than forty-eight hours ago, I had found the receipt for the king crab dinner.
The receipt was still lying there on the counter. Next to it was the payment slip for Gertrude’s card.
I picked both up, dropped them into a manila folder, and tossed them into the trash can.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Marcus:
*“Judge just signed the emergency asset freeze and temporary sole occupancy order for the San Bernardino residence. The house is entirely yours, Charlotte. Brandon and his family have forty-eight hours to clear their belongings under police supervision.”*
I let out a long, ragged breath that felt like shedding a ten-ton coat I had been forced to wear for a decade.
Skylar walked quietly into the kitchen, holding her restored teddy bear under one arm. She looked around the empty, silent house, her big eyes reflecting a cautious, tentative hope.
“Mom?” she asked softly. “Are the bad people gone?”
I stood up from the stool, walked over, and knelt down so I was eye-level with my daughter.
“Yes, sweetheart,” I said, smiling as I brushed a curl from her forehead. “They’re gone. And nobody is ever going to make you hide in the dark again.”
“Can we make pancakes?” she asked, a small, genuine smile finally breaking across her face.
May you like
“We can make whatever you want,” I laughed, my eyes stinging with tears of pure relief. “We can eat pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if we want to.”
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