Chapter 7 - The Closing Circle
On the drive back to my apartment, Savannah held the yellow folder against her chest like a shield.
“She kept me dependent,” Savannah whispered, her voice shaking with the weight of a realization that broke decades of illusion. “Every time I tried to leave, every time I tried to get a job or go back to school, Mom told me I was failing as a mother, that I couldn't handle real life.”
“That was the point,” I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the highway. “Control isn't an accident. It’s a full-time job.”
When we pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, a black SUV was idling near the dumpster. The moment my headlights swept across its windshield, the vehicle threw its transmission into reverse and sped out of the complex.
A handwritten note was taped securely to my front door with packing tape: You should have listened to your mother. Drop it before you lose everything.
That was the exact moment I stopped thinking we were dealing with a chaotic, angry domestic dispute. Somebody was executing a coordinated legal and physical strategy, and they had been practicing for years.
I pulled the note off the door, slipped it into an evidence bag from my kit, and unlocked the door. Inside, Deborah was on the phone with a judge’s clerk, and Savannah was gently feeding Khloe a bowl of soup.
May you like
“They know we found the box,” I told the room. “Which means they know we’re coming for them.”
Deborah lowered the phone, her eyes sharp. “Good. Because I just secured an emergency injunction freezing Kyle’s primary accounts, and we have enough financial fraud evidence to bring criminal charges against both him and your mother before the weekend is over.”
