Chapter 5 - The Escalation
On Wednesday morning, Marilyn decided to launch her counter-offensive.
I was sitting in my living room working on my laptop when my phone lit up with a notification from Facebook. A mutual family friend had sent me a screenshot of a post Marilyn had just published.
The post featured a photo of Marilyn standing beside her ruined, stained $3,500 white wool rug, wiping a tear from her eye. The caption read:
"Heartbroken today. Christmas was destroyed by someone we opened our hearts to. To be verbally attacked and have my home vandalized by my own daughter-in-law over a simple dinner request is a pain no mother should endure. Praying for my son Derek as he navigates this unprovoked cruelty. #FamilyFirst #Heartbroken #Ingratitude"
The comments section was already filled with dozens of suburban ladies leaving sympathetic messages: "Oh Marilyn, how terrible!", "She always seemed so cold!", "Derek deserves so much better!"
I stared at the screen, a cold smile forming on my face.
Five minutes later, my door buzzer rang. I opened my building’s security camera app on my phone. Standing in the lobby downstairs was Marilyn, wearing her fur coat and holding a large, white envelope, flanked by Derek’s brother, Greg.
I pressed the intercom button. "Marilyn. You are trespassing in my building."
"Open this door, Hannah!" Marilyn’s shrill voice echoed through the speaker. "You are going to sign these papers and pay for my rug right now, or I am posting the security footage from my porch on social media!"
"What security footage?" I asked calmly.
"The footage of you throwing gravy across my dining room and shouting obscenities at my family!" she sneered. "I will ruin your professional reputation in this city! Everyone will know what a unstable, violent woman you are!"
I pressed a button on my phone and brought up my own recording application.
"Marilyn," I said, my voice projecting clearly through the lobby speaker. "I suggest you take a very close look at the top corner of your lobby security camera right now."
Downstairs, Marilyn and Greg instinctively looked up at the ceiling lens.
"This intercom system records high-definition video and audio directly to a cloud server managed by my legal counsel," I informed her smoothly. "You have just uttered an explicit attempt at extortion on camera. Furthermore, if you do not vacate this property within sixty seconds, the building manager will press charges for criminal trespass."
Greg looked terrified. He tugged on his mother’s fur sleeve. "Mom, come on. Let's go. She's recording."
"She's bluffing!" Marilyn shrieked at the camera. "You ruined my three-thousand-five-hundred-dollar rug!"
"Your rug was purchased on a twelve-month interest-free credit store card," I replied, reading directly from the financial file I had pulled up earlier. "And the diamond bracelet on your wrist was purchased using an illegal eighteen-hundred-dollar charge on my personal joint credit card without my authorization. That constitutes credit card fraud, Marilyn. Should I call the police now, or would you like to leave?"
Marilyn’s face turned an ugly, mottled shade of purple. Her jaw worked silently, but no words came out.
Greg dragged her toward the automatic glass doors, practically pulling her out into the snowy street.
May you like
I turned off the intercom, sat back down on my plush sofa, and dialed Sarah’s legal office.
"Sarah," I said. "Add attempted extortion and public defamation to the divorce petition. And let's speed up the asset subpoena. It's time to pull back the curtain on Marilyn's finances."
