CHAPTER 4: THE VULTURES RETURN
Peace is a fragile thing. Especially when the people who broke you have nowhere else to go.
It was a rainy Tuesday evening when the doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone. I checked the security cameras I had recently installed on the porch.
Standing in the freezing rain, shivering under a broken umbrella, were my mother and Chloe. They didn't look like the arrogant, wealthy women who used to mock my clothes and spend my father's money. They looked desperate. Their designer coats were soaked. Their expensive luggage was sitting in puddles on the concrete.
I opened the door, but kept the heavy chain locked.
"What do you want?" I asked coldly.
My mother burst into theatrical tears. "Please," she sobbed, pressing her hands against the crack in the door. "They took the condo. The courts froze our accounts to pay the restitution. We have nothing. We have nowhere to sleep."
Chloe stepped forward, her usual arrogance completely gone. "Just let us stay in the guest house," Chloe begged, her teeth chattering. "Just for a few weeks. Until we can figure things out. We're family."
Family. The word tasted like poison.
I looked at my mother. The woman who had watched Jason manipulate me. I looked at my sister. The girl who had orchestrated the entire sick relationship just to steal my inheritance.
"You aren't family," I said quietly, my voice cutting through the sound of the rain. "You are thieves who got caught."
"How can you be so cruel?!" my mother shrieked, dropping the victim act instantly. "I am your mother! Your father would be ashamed of you!"
May you like
I smiled. A cold, hard smile. "My father is the one who built the cage you are currently trapped in," I reminded her. "He just gave me the key."
I didn't yell. I didn't argue. I simply closed the heavy oak door, locked the deadbolt, and walked back to my hot coffee. Ten minutes later, the motion sensors alerted me that they had dragged their ruined luggage back down the driveway. I didn't feel an ounce of guilt. I just felt warm.
