Chapter 4 - The Golden Child Falls
The uniformed officer stationed at the door placed his hand on the butt of his sidearm and looked toward Detective Miller.
Miller shook his head. “Keep it locked, Officer. Let’s see what they have to say.”
Mark stood up, adjusting his cuffs. “Sarah, you don’t have to speak to them. I can step out there as your legal counsel and have them trespassed immediately.”
“No,” I said. The trembling in my limbs had vanished, replaced by an arctic, absolute clarity. “Let them in. I want Detective Miller to hear every word they say.”
I walked to the front foyer. Detective Miller stood slightly to the side, out of direct view from the porch, holding his recorder in his breast pocket. Mark stood beside me.
I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.
My parents practically tumbled across the threshold. Mom’s eyes were bloodshot, her mascara smeared across her cheeks. Dad’s face was an alarming shade of mottled crimson, his jacket unzipped, his chest heaving with rage.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Dad bellowed, stepping directly into my personal space, pointing a shaking finger in my face. “Nicole is sitting in a holding cell downtown! Handcuffed like a common criminal! Do you have any idea what that’s going to do to her children? To her reputation?”
“She didn't steal that watch!” Mom screamed, her voice shrill enough to wake the dead. “I gave her permission to borrow it! I told her Daniel would have wanted to help his family! You call the police right now and tell them you made a mistake!”
“You gave her permission?” I asked, my voice chillingly low. “You gave Nicole permission to steal Daniel’s grandfather’s heirloom from my closet to pawn for pocket money?”
“It’s just a piece of metal!” Mom shrieked, flailing her arms. “Nicole has real problems! Real debts! She has people breathing down her neck, Sarah! If she doesn't pay them, they’re going to take everything from her! Why are you so selfish? Why have you always been so cold-hearted?”
“Did you know about the enforcer in her car, Mom?” I asked.
Dad paused, his eyes flickering with an instant of hesitation. “What enforcer? She was alone! She called us from the police car!”
“Hector Ruiz,” Mark announced, stepping forward from the shadow of the entryway. “Julian Vance’s hitman. The man who took Nicole’s phone while the police had guns drawn on her and threatened to butcher Ava if Sarah didn't withdraw the charges.”
The foyer went completely quiet.
Dad blinked, his jaw dropping slack. He looked at Mom. “Evelyn... what is he talking about? Who is Hector?”
Mom’s face drained of every ounce of color. The furious, self-righteous fire in her eyes sputtered and died, replaced by an ugly, frantic panic. She swallowed hard, clutching her designer purse against her stomach like a shield.
“Nicole... Nicole said Hector was just a friend,” Mom stammered, her voice dropping into a guilty whisper. “She said he was helping her sort through some paperwork...”
“Paperwork?” Detective Miller stepped out into the bright light of the chandelier, flashing his badge.
Dad jumped backward, gasping.
“Mrs. Sterling,” Miller said, addressing my mother with the clinical precision of a surgeon. “We impounded your daughter’s car. Along with the stolen Patek Philippe chronograph, we discovered forty-two cloned debit cards, sixteen forged state IDs, and a forged second mortgage document on your private residence at 114 Elm Street.”
Dad’s head whipped toward Mom so fast his neck made an audible crack. “What did he just say?”
“Robert, don’t listen to them—” Mom pleaded, backing toward the front door.
“What did he just say about 114 Elm?!” Dad roared, grabbing Mom by the shoulders. His voice shattered into raw, agonizing horror. “Evelyn! We paid that house off twelve years ago! What did you sign?!”
“Nicole was going to lose her kids, Robert!” Mom wailed, completely breaking down, weeping into her hands. “Vance came to the house last month! He said Nicole took eighty thousand dollars in gambling credit and high-end loans! He said if we didn't give him collateral, he would hurt Brayden and Chloe! Nicole told me if we just put the house up as temporary security, Vance would give her time to find an investor!”
“And the investor was Sarah,” Mark said coldly. “Nicole forged Sarah’s signature on the secondary loan documents to siphon two hundred and fifty thousand dollars out of Daniel’s remaining estate trust.”
Dad stood frozen. His shoulders slumped. The anger that had puffed him up melted away, leaving behind a pathetic, broken old man who had spent thirty-five years enabling a monster at the expense of his other child.
He turned toward me, his lips trembling, tears finally spilling down his weathered cheeks. “Sarah... Sarah, I didn't know. I swear to God, I didn't know about the threat. I didn't know about Ava.”
“You didn't care to know,” I said. Every word felt like a nail driven into the coffin of our relationship. “When Nicole smashed Ava’s piggy bank right in front of you, you told my crying daughter that family helps family. You told her to let it go.”
“Sarah, please—” Dad choked out.
“Ava was kneeling in shattered glass, clutching three pennies, and you stood there defending the woman who robbed her,” I continued, my voice steady, merciless, and completely devoid of warmth. “Nicole didn’t just break a piggy bank tonight, Dad. She broke this family. And you helped her do it.”
Detective Miller stepped forward, tapping Dad’s arm. “Mr. Sterling, Mrs. Sterling. You need to come down to the station with me right now. You’re not under arrest yet, but if you don't cooperate fully regarding Julian Vance’s threats and the fraudulent notarization on that home equity deed, you will both be booked as co-conspirators by morning.”
Mom looked at me, her hands reaching out, begging. “Sarah... you're my baby. You can't let them do this to our family. What will the neighbors say? What will people think?”
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“I don't care what they think,” I whispered. “Get out of my house.”
***
