Chapter 4 - The Visit to Brooklyn
Evelyn's face drained of every drop of color. She looked as if she had seen an actual ghost standing in her entryway.
"C-Claire?" she choked out, her hand clutching her pearls. "You... you're here?"
"Where else would I be, Evelyn?" I asked, walking calmly into her living room and taking a seat in the velvet armchair opposite her.
"I... the embassy... they said there was an accident in Switzerland!" she stammered, her voice shaking uncontrollably. "They said you were..."
"Buried under five feet of snow?" I finished for her, tilting my head. "And you told them not to send a helicopter because I wasn't worth the expense, didn't you?"
Evelyn swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward the door as if looking for an escape. "Claire, you don't understand! Evan called me three days ago! He told me... he told me you were being unreasonable about money, that you were threatening to leave him, and that if anything happened, I had to protect the estate!"
"Protect the estate?" I let out a low, cold laugh. "Evelyn, I am the estate. Every dollar in this house, every penny that paid for your artificial hip, every installment on your furnace—it came from my typewriter, not your son's paycheck."
"He's my son!" Evelyn cried out, suddenly turning defensive. "He deserves a wife who pays attention to him, not a woman who sits in an office writing silly stories all day! Madison makes him happy!"
There it was. The mask was completely off.
She had known about Madison the entire time.
"Thank you, Evelyn," I said, standing up and smoothing down the front of my trench coat. "That was the exact confirmation I needed."
"Confirmation for what?!" she demanded, standing up with her cane.
I pulled an envelope from my coat pocket and laid it on her coffee table.
"That is an official notice of eviction," I said calmly. "You have thirty days to pack your belongings and vacate this property. The lease on this brownstone is in my name, and I am terminating it effective immediately."
"You can't do this!" Evelyn shrieked, her voice echoing off the walls. "I'm an old woman! Evan won't let you!"
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"Evan doesn't have a job anymore, Evelyn," I replied, turning my back on her as I walked toward the front door. "And by tomorrow morning, he won't have a home either. I suggest you call your daughter Paige. Maybe she can host you in the apartment I paid six months of rent on."
I slammed the front door behind me, leaving her screaming my name into the empty hall.
