Chapter 6 - The Fall of Avalon
The front door opened, and two uniformed police officers stepped into the marble foyer alongside a tall, sharp-suited detective holding a leather clipboard.
"Randall Vance?" Detective Miller asked.
"Yes, Detective," Randall replied, stepping aside. "She's in the dining room."
Avalon was still on her knees when the officers walked in. When she saw the yellow brass handcuffs clipped to the officer's belt, she lost whatever sanity she had left. She began screaming, scrambling backward on the hardwood floor, knocking over a dining chair.
"Get away from me! You can't touch me!" she shrieked, kicking her heels against the wood. "Agatha! Tell them! Tell them it was a mistake! Tell them you gave me permission!"
I stood up from the table, holding my black leather notebook securely against my chest. I walked slowly over to where she was cowering against the base of the grand mahogany sideboard.
I looked down at her.
"I gave you my son's heart to take care of, Avalon," I said softly, my voice devoid of anger, filled only with deep, unyielding resolve. "And you tried to starve me to death in a room smaller than your walk-in closet. You broke the law, and now you are going to answer for it."
"Agatha, please!" she sobbed, as the female officer stepped forward, grabbing her wrists and pulling her arms firmly behind her back. Click. Click. The metal handcuffs snapped shut around her thin wrists. "Randall! Don't let them take me! Help me!"
Randall stood by the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his face completely emotionless as he watched his wife being read her Miranda rights.
"You have the right to remain silent," the officer recited calmly. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."
They marched Avalon out through the front foyer, her high heels dragging along the floor, her frantic screams echoing out into the snowy night as they put her into the back of the marked police cruiser.
When the cruiser drove away, its red and blue lights flashing against the white snowdrifts in the driveway, silence finally returned to the house.
Randall turned around and looked at me. He looked smaller, broken, but the heavy shadow that had hung over his eyes for two years was finally gone.
He walked over to me, sank to his knees right there in the foyer, and buried his face in the folds of my old navy dress, weeping like a little boy.
"I'm so sorry, Mom," he sobbed, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. "I'm so, so sorry I didn't see it. I'm sorry I let you suffer."
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I knelt down beside him, wrapping my arms around my son's head, pulling him close to my heart.
"It's over now, Randall," I whispered, tears of relief falling from my eyes. "It's finally over."
