Chapter 12: The Ultimatum
I sat in a sterile, glass-walled conference room at the district attorney’s office. Across the table sat Janet, Robert, and Sabrina. They looked like ghosts. The stress of the last month had aged them ten years. They had no money, no business, and no leverage.
Their public defender cleared his throat. “Mrs. Vance, your parents are prepared to make full restitution to avoid incarceration. However, to generate the $73,000 plus the $20,000 in legal and tax penalties, they will have to sell their primary residence.”
Janet looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears. But it wasn't remorse; it was self-pity. “Claire, please,” she whimpered. “It’s the house you grew up in. Don't make us sell our home. We’ll pay you back monthly. Five hundred dollars a month. Please.”
May you like
I looked at the woman who had sat at a dining room table and smiled while she gave away my daughter’s future. “Five hundred dollars a month will take fifteen years,” I said, my voice perfectly flat. “Anna goes to college in four. The answer is no.” “You’re a monster,” Sabrina hissed. I turned my gaze to my sister. “You’re lucky you aren't wearing handcuffs, Sabrina. Don't push me.”
I looked back at the public defender. “They have exactly thirty days to deposit $93,000 into a new, ironclad trust account for my daughter. If the money isn't there, I want the prosecutor to move forward with the criminal trial.” I stood up, picked up my purse, and walked out.
