Chapter 7 - THE AMBUSH AT THE BAKERY
In late February, the snow began to melt into slush along the city streets.
I drove downtown to pick up a box of fresh pastries from Muller’s Bakery—the small, historic shop located on the ground floor of the red-brick building where Daniel was currently renting his studio apartment.
As I stepped out of my sedan holding my purse, a woman stepped out from the shadow of the brick archway.
It was Lorraine.
She was wearing an old faux-fur coat that looked frayed around the cuffs. Her hair was unstyled, her makeup applied unevenly, and the arrogant, superior sneer she had worn at the restaurant three months ago was entirely gone, replaced by a desperate, sharp hunger.
"Evelyn," Lorraine hissed, taking two steps toward me.
I stopped cleanly on the sidewalk, my hands resting calmly on my leather handbag. "Hello, Lorraine."
"You ruined my daughter's life," Lorraine spat, her voice trembling with venomous rage. "Paige is living in a two-bedroom apartment! She has to work as a retail associate at a department store! She stands on her feet for eight hours a day because of you!"
I looked at Lorraine with cold, unyielding indifference. "Paige is thirty-four years old, Lorraine. Standing on her feet for eight hours a day to earn an honest living is called being an adult."
"You took everything from us!" Lorraine yelled, stepping closer, her fingers clawing at the air. "The Mercedes! My payroll transfers! Daniel's estate! You're a bitter, selfish old woman sitting on millions while your grandchildren eat cheap food!"
"My grandchildren eat very well," I replied smoothly. "And Daniel buys their food with money he earned with his own hands, not money stolen from my husband's company."
"You think you've won?" Lorraine sneered, her mouth twisting into a grotesque smile. "Paige filed for full custody last week! She's claiming Daniel is an unfit father because he lives in a cheap studio above a bakery! She's going to take those kids away from him forever, Evelyn! And unless you pay us five hundred thousand dollars in cash by Friday to settle the divorce, we will make sure Daniel never sees Leo and Maya again!"
I stared at Lorraine for three long seconds.
The cold winter wind blew between us, carrying the smell of exhaust and fresh bread from the bakery door.
I pulled out my smartphone, tapped the screen twice, and held it up so Lorraine could see the bright digital screen.
"What is that?" Lorraine frowned, stepping back slightly.
"That," I said, "is a high-definition audio recording app. It has been recording your voice since the moment you stepped out of that archway."
Lorraine's face drained of every drop of color.
"Extortion is a felony in this state, Lorraine," I said, my voice dropping into a register so dark, hard, and precise that she flinched. "Attempting to use child custody arrangements to extract five hundred thousand dollars in cash from a grandmother is punishable by up to seven years in a state penitentiary."
"You... you wouldn't..." Lorraine stammered, backing away toward the brick wall.
"Try me," I said, taking one slow, powerful step toward her. "If you or Paige ever mention five hundred thousand dollars again, if you ever threaten Daniel's access to his children, or if you ever stand on my sidewalk again, this audio file goes directly to Judge Vance in the family court."
Lorraine stared at me in terror. She saw the woman who had spent fifteen years being quiet, and she finally realized that the quiet woman was completely, irreversibly dead.
May you like
She didn't say another word. She turned around, pulled her frayed coat around her shoulders, and stumbled frantically down the wet sidewalk into the cold afternoon light.
I saved the audio file, slipped my phone back into my handbag, walked into the bakery, and bought a dozen fresh cinnamon rolls for my son.
