Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of Cynthia
Word count target: ~1,500 words
With Jeffrey languishing in the Fulton County jail unable to meet his two-million-dollar bail, and Victoria Sterling facing an imminent federal indictment for financial conspiracy, the house of cards built by Cynthia Reed completely collapsed.
At 10:00 AM on Thursday morning, Madeline sat in a glass-walled conference room at the Fulton County District Attorney’s Office.
Across the steel table sat Cynthia Reed, wearing an orange orange jumpsuit, her hair unwashed, her wrists bound in silver handcuffs. Beside her sat a public defender who looked thoroughly exhausted.
"Mrs. Vance," District Attorney Richard Hayes said, setting a thick case file on the table. "Miss Reed has requested an emergency proffer session. She wants to offer full testimony against Jeffrey Vance and Victoria Sterling in exchange for dropping the grand larceny and child endangerment charges."
Madeline looked at Cynthia. The arrogant, smirking woman who had sat on Madeline's leather sofa wearing her anniversary bracelet was completely gone. In her place was a terrified, desperate opportunist facing up to twenty years in state prison.
"I don't care about your plea bargain with the DA regarding the financial crimes, Cynthia," Madeline said, her voice flat and unyielding. "I’m only sitting in this room for one reason."
Cynthia swallowed hard, her eyes wet with tears. "Liam."
"Tell me everything," Madeline demanded, leaning forward. "Tell me what you, Jeffrey, and Noelle did to my son while I was in Europe. Every detail. If you lie even once, I will personally ensure the DA seeks the maximum sentence without parole."
Cynthia’s hands shook as she pressed her manicured fingers—now missing their expensive polish—against the steel table.
"It... it started about a year ago," Cynthia began, her voice trembling. "When Jeffrey brought me and Austin to live at the Buckhead house. At first, Liam was just a normal kid. He missed you. He cried constantly. Every time Jeffrey’s phone rang, Liam would scream 'Mommy!' and try to grab it."
Madeline felt a sharp, agonizing stab in her chest, but she kept her face completely stoic. "Go on."
"Jeffrey couldn't handle it," Cynthia confessed, looking down at the table. "He was stressed about the company, and every time he looked at Liam, he felt guilty about what he was doing with me. So he started ignoring him. He’d lock Liam in the upstairs playroom for hours with an iPad just to keep him quiet."
"And Noelle?" Madeline asked.
"Noelle was worse," Cynthia whispered. "Noelle hated that Liam looked so much like you. She favored Austin from the moment we moved in. She told Jeffrey that Liam was 'spoiled' and needed strict discipline. Six months ago, when Liam had a tantrum and accidentally broke one of Noelle’s antique porcelain vases, Noelle lost her temper."
Madeline’s knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists beneath the table. "What did she do?"
"She told Jeffrey that Liam was aggressive and dangerous to Austin," Cynthia whimpered. "They took away his bed. They moved his things into the small pantry room near the kitchen. They tied his wrist to the door handle with a soft curtain sash whenever guests came over so he wouldn't come out and ruin the 'family image.'"
"And you just watched this happen?" DA Hayes asked, his voice filled with disgust.
"I... I told Jeffrey it was wrong!" Cynthia cried out, looking desperately at the prosecutor. "But Jeffrey said it was temporary! He said once Madeline signed over the European rights, he would send Liam to a residential boarding school in Switzerland so we wouldn't have to deal with him anymore!"
Madeline stood up so violently her chair scraped loudly against the linoleum floor.
The image of her sweet, innocent boy tied to a pantry door, listening to his father and grandmother laugh with another child in the next room, burned into her mind like acid.
"They kept him on the floor," Cynthia sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "They made him eat after Austin finished because Noelle said he didn't deserve to sit at the table if he wouldn't behave! Please, Madeline... I didn't organize it! It was Noelle and Jeffrey! I just went along with it because Jeffrey promised me I’d be the mistress of the estate!"
Madeline looked down at Cynthia with a coldness that made the younger woman freeze.
"You wore my jewelry," Madeline said softly. "You lived in my house. You watched a four-year-old child be systematically abused and starved, and you smiled while drinking wine on my sofa."
"I'm sorry!" Cynthia wept, reaching out her handcuffed hands. "I'm so sorry!"
"Mr. Hayes," Madeline said, turning toward the District Attorney.
"Yes, Mrs. Vance?"
"I want child cruelty charges pressed against Noelle Vance immediately," Madeline stated, her tone sharp as a razor. "And I want Jeffrey charged with felony child abuse alongside the corporate fraud counts. If you grant this woman a plea deal that eliminates prison time, I will use my entire fortune to campaign against your re-election."
DA Hayes looked at the overwhelming evidence in the file, then back at Madeline. "Mrs. Vance... I assure you, nobody involved in this cruelty is walking away without serving state prison time. Miss Reed's cooperation will only reduce her financial counts. She is still looking at a minimum of seven years."
Cynthia let out a horrified shriek, collapsing onto the table as the guards stepped forward to haul her away.
Madeline walked out of the District Attorney’s office into the bright hallway where Julian was waiting.
"Noelle Vance was picked up by police thirty minutes ago at her country club," Julian reported quietly. "They arrested her right in the middle of the dining room."
Madeline took a deep breath, feeling a heavy weight lift off her shoulders. The monsters who had tormented her son were finally behind bars where they belonged.
"How is the property sale going?" Madeline asked as they walked toward the elevators.
"The Buckhead mansion was officially listed this morning," Julian replied. "And I’ve already secured a buyer—a relocation company representing a corporate executive. We’ll have the closing funds by next Friday."
"Good," Madeline said. "I don't want a single penny tied up in that house. Sell everything inside it—the furniture, the art, the china. Use the proceeds to set up a irrevocable medical and educational trust fund for Liam."
"And where are you going to live?"
Madeline pulled out her phone, opening a real estate listing she had viewed earlier that morning.
May you like
It was a gorgeous, sunlit four-bedroom craftsman home in Virginia-Highland—surrounded by a high wooden fence, a private garden, a large playground set in the backyard, and a state-of-the-art security system.
"We're moving to a place filled with light," Madeline smiled softly. "A place where every boy gets to sit at the table."
