Chapter 7 - The Long Bus Ride Home
The journey back to the city was a grueling, seven-hour nightmare that neither Betsy nor Pamela would ever forget.
Desperate and left with zero alternatives, Betsy was forced to perform the ultimate humiliation: she called her younger sister, Martha—a quiet, middle-class schoolteacher whom Betsy had ignored and condescended to for over a decade.
Martha listened to Betsy’s hysterical crying on the phone, refused to send cash directly, but agreed to purchase two non-refundable, economy bus tickets online for them to return to the city.
By 2:00 PM, the proud Betsy Bennett and her influencer daughter were sitting at the back of a crowded, noisy intercity bus.
There was no air conditioning. The air inside the bus smelled of stale diesel fumes and cheap fast food. Betsy was forced to squeeze her designer cardigan into a narrow seat beside an old man carrying a cage of chirping parakeets, while Pamela sat across the aisle, clutching her knees, weeping quietly as her phone battery slowly died.
Every time the bus bumped along the highway, Betsy felt a sharp pang of humiliation deep in her gut.
She remembered how she had stood in the foyer of the Pinecrest Lake villa, looking down her nose at Walter and Nancy’s old leather suitcase. She remembered kicking it with her shoe and telling them they looked like they came straight out of a dumpster.
Now, here she was—sitting on a dirty bus, her own expensive suitcases crammed into the dark luggage hold below, penniless, helpless, and completely stripped of her dignity.
By the time the bus finally pulled into the noisy, dimly lit central bus station in the city, it was past 9:00 PM.
Sweating, exhausted, and bruised from the long ride, Betsy and Pamela dragged their heavy bags out onto the city sidewalk. They didn't have money for a taxi, so they were forced to drag their luggage for eight long city blocks through the night air toward their quiet suburban neighborhood.
When they finally reached the elegant, tree-lined street where Betsy’s townhome was located, Betsy let out a long sigh of relief.
“Thank God,” Betsy muttered, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. “We’re home. Once we get inside, I’ll shower, I’ll call a lawyer, and we will fix this madness.”
They walked up the manicured front steps of the beautiful, two-story stone townhome.
Betsy reached into her purse, pulled out her brass house key, and slid it into the front door lock.
She turned the key.
It didn't move.
She jiggled it, jammed it in further, and tried to force it with all her strength. The key spun uselessly in the keyhole.
The locks had been completely changed.
Pamela let out a terrified shriek. “Mom! The key isn't working!”
Betsy beat her fist against the heavy wooden door in a frenzy. “Open this door! This is my house! Open this door right now!”
A bright yellow piece of official cardstock, taped neatly at eye level beside the doorbell, caught Pamela’s eye.
Pamela reached out with a trembling hand and pulled the paper off the wall.
It was a formal legal document stamped by the County Sheriff’s Office and signed by the Senior Partner of Vance & Associates Corporate Legal Counsel.
NOTICE TO VACATE PREMISES AND EVICTION ORDER
“To: Mrs. Betsy Bennett.
Take notice that your tenancy at 414 Elmwood Drive is hereby terminated effective immediately. The property is owned exclusively by Bennett Medical Innovations Holdings LLC. All personal belongings remaining inside have been secured under court order pending settlement of outstanding utility and occupancy fees...”
Attached to the document was a small, hand-written note on high-end ivory stationery.
The handwriting belonged to Naomi.
“Betsy,
The villa was full. Now, your townhome is full too—with the reality of your own actions. Do not contact Lucas. Do not come to my office. My legal team will handle all further communications.
May you like
— Naomi.”
Betsy dropped to her knees on the stone porch, clutching the paper against her chest, letting out a long, desperate wail that echoed down the empty, dark street.
