Chapter 4 - THE EMPTY NEST DISCOVERED
It was Sunday afternoon when I finally turned the key in the lock of the Albuquerque apartment. It smelled of old dust and dried lavender, perfectly preserved since my sister passed away two years ago. I pulled the sheets off the furniture, opened the windows to let the crisp, high-desert air rush in, and took a deep breath. I was home.
Meanwhile, I could only imagine the hurricane of panic ripping through San Diego.
Carter and Karla would have returned late Saturday night, humiliated and fuming from the restaurant. They would have stormed through the front door, shouting my name, ready to berate me for the card declining. Instead, they would have found the silence. They would have found Carter’s office door open.
They would have seen the laptop. The printed statements of Karla’s failed business. The betting ledgers. And sitting right on top of it all, the draft application to lock me away in a ward, paired with the chilling sticky notes they had written to each other about selling my apartment.
I pictured Carter’s blood running cold as he realized the old woman he thought was a frail, compliant ATM had seen every ugly truth of his betrayal. They had a meeting scheduled with the care facility at 9:00 AM on Sunday. Instead, they woke up to a nightmare of their own making. No money. No nanny. No maid. And no victim.
I walked into the small kitchen of the apartment and plugged in my new prepaid phone. I dialed the number Elias had given me. A woman named Sarah answered, and when I mentioned Elias Vance, her tone instantly became warm and accommodating.
May you like
"Mr. Vance already called me, Marissa. We need to move quickly. Your son will likely try to file a missing persons report or claim you are a danger to yourself to force the authorities to bring you back. We are going to the police precinct tomorrow morning to preempt them."
I hung up, feeling a renewed surge of adrenaline. I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. The woman staring back was no longer the hunched, exhausted widow in a faded sweater. Her eyes were sharp. Her spine was straight. The war had just begun, and I was ready.
