Chapter 8 - The Eviction Notice
By nine o'clock the following morning, the front gates of 442 Alder Creek Road were swarming with local delivery trucks. But they weren't delivering flowers or wedding favors.
They were repossessing Brooke's leased Mercedes.
Julian and I sat in the back of a black SUV parked across the tree-lined street, accompanied by two uniformed county deputies and Marcus Campbell. Through the tinted windows, we watched the spectacle unfold.
Eleanor rushed out of the two-story colonial brick house in her silk dressing gown, her hair completely unstyled, screaming at the tow truck driver. Brooke followed behind her, clutching her phone to her ear, frantically screaming at someone on the other end—likely Liam, who was certainly not picking up.
"You can't take this car!" Eleanor shrieked, waving her arms wildly. "This vehicle is under a private corporate lease!"
"The lease payments bounced three consecutive months, ma'am," the tow driver replied flatly, securing the chains beneath the luxury sedan’s chassis. "Bank issued the recovery order at 6:00 AM."
Marcus Campbell stepped out of our vehicle and walked calmly up the stone driveway. The deputies followed closely behind him.
When Eleanor saw Marcus, her face twisted into a mask of pure, concentrated hatred. "Where is she?! Where is that ungrateful brat?! Tell her to get down here and fix this right now!"
Marcus did not flinch. He handed a manila envelope directly to Eleanor.
"Eleanor Alder, you are hereby served with a formal Notice to Quit and Vacate the premises of 442 Alder Creek Road pursuant to state real property code. You have seventy-two hours to remove your personal belongings."
Eleanor froze. The paper fluttered in her fingers. "Seventy-two hours? This is my house! Richard built this house!"
"Richard lost this house," Marcus countered with icy precision. "Emma bought it. And as the legal owner, she has terminated your tenancy. If you remain on the property past Tuesday at noon, the sheriff’s department will remove you for criminal trespass."
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Brooke dropped her phone onto the gravel driveway. She ran toward Marcus, her face blotchy and swollen from a night of crying. "Where are we supposed to go?! We have no money! Emma froze the accounts! We can't even get into our credit cards!"
"I suggest you contact a social services agency or seek employment, Ms. Alder," Marcus replied smoothly. "Your sister's financial obligations to you ended last night at seven o'clock."
