Chapter 6 - The Cracking Facade
By Tuesday afternoon, the shockwaves of the sale had ripped through every corner of the Anderson family’s carefully curated social world.
The elite suburban ecosystem they inhabited was small, fragile, and utterly dependent on appearances. Richard had spent forty years serving on the board of the local country club, boasting about his portfolio, and treating waitstaff like second-class citizens. Vanessa had built an entire online persona around being an effortless suburban matriarch with an inherited fortune.
Within twenty-four hours, that facade had completely collapsed.
I was sitting in my new temporary office suite in the West Loop, reviewing Leo’s enrollment documents for a prestigious private academy that specialized in science and arts—paid for entirely with a small fraction of the $1.4 million Apex wire transfer—when my phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unrecognized number.
I answered. “Clara Anderson.”
“Clara... please don’t hang up.”
It was my mother’s voice. She was whispering, her breath coming in shallow, frantic gasps, as if she were hiding in a closet.
“What do you want, Eleanor?” I asked.
“Clara, it’s a nightmare here,” she wept. “Vanessa’s husband, Bradley... he found out. The police came to their house looking for her yesterday afternoon. Bradley didn’t know anything about the forged deed. Vanessa told him that you had willingly gifted the house to her because you couldn’t afford the taxes!”
I leaned back in my chair, feeling a cold sense of justice wash over me. Bradley was a high-earning corporate accountant whose firm conducted strict background checks on spouses.
“And what happened?” I asked smoothly.
“Bradley threw her out!” Eleanor sobbed. “He told her that if she faces felony charges, he’s filing for full custody of Lucas and freezing their joint accounts! She’s here at the house, packing boxes and screaming at your father. Your father’s blood pressure is dangerously high. Clara, we are your parents! You cannot let your sister go to prison! Tell the police it was a family misunderstanding!”
“A misunderstanding?” I scoffed, my voice hardening. “She forged my legal signature on a state document declaring me mentally incapacitated. She tried to steal a million-dollar property from me. That is not a misunderstanding, Eleanor. That is premeditated theft.”
“We did it for the family!” Eleanor pleaded, her tone turning shrill. “Vanessa has a family! Lucas needs stability! You’re single, Clara! You have your consulting business, you can buy another place! Why couldn't you just let Vanessa have the estate?! Richard wanted a legacy for Lucas!”
The sheer audacity of her words made me laugh out loud.
“And what about Leo?” I asked, my voice deadly quiet. “What legacy was he supposed to have? The legacy of being called a mistake while his grandfather smashed his birthday cake on the floor? Where were your tears for him, Eleanor? When Richard was screaming at a six-year-old child, you sat there and stared at your napkin.”
There was dead silence on the line. Eleanor had no answer. She had never had an answer; she was an accomplice whose currency was cowardice.
“Pack your things, Mother,” I said quietly. “Because on Thursday morning, the bulldozers arrive.”
I hung up the phone and blocked the number.
Ten minutes later, Marcus forwarded me a copy of the Cook County preliminary hearing report.
Brenda Higgins, the corrupt notary public, had turned state’s evidence within two hours of being placed in an interrogation room. To avoid a five-year prison sentence, she had handed over text messages from Vanessa explicitly detailing the scheme, along with an audio recording of Richard Anderson coaching her on how to alter the county submission dates.
The District Attorney had added Richard as a co-conspirator.
His name was now on an active criminal indictment.
May you like
The man who had spent his entire life looking down on others from his high horse was now scheduled for fingerprinting and a mugshot.
***
