Chapter 6 - The Fall of Queen EleanorEleanor Vance had spent a decade treating service workers like dirt and bragging about her brilliant, wealthy son. Now, she was standing in the lobby of a budget apartment complex in the Bronx, arguing with a tired leasing agent.

"I am a Vance!" she screamed. "I need an apartment with a view, not this... this closet next to the garbage chute!"
"Lady, your credit score is 420 and your son is unemployed. Take the studio or leave it," the agent replied dryly.
Just as Eleanor was about to throw a tantrum, her phone rang. It was an unknown number. Desperate, hoping it was one of her rich friends finally returning her calls, she answered.
"Hello?"
"Eleanor," my voice came through the speaker, cool and detached.
"Saraphina! You wicked, evil girl! When my son is done with you—"
"Your son just signed the divorce papers," I interrupted. "He walked away with nothing to avoid federal prison. I'm calling to let you know that the allowance you’ve been receiving for the last ten years was from my personal account. The account your son told you was his."
Silence on the other end.
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"You called me a useless leech," I reminded her. "I just wanted to wish you luck in the real world. I hear retail is hiring for the holidays."
I hung up, blocking her number forever.
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