Chapter 5 - Rats in a Trap
By 3:00 PM, Beatrice and Clara’s world collapsed.
I was sitting in the living room, watching Leo play with his new action figures on the clean rug, when the security intercom at the front gate buzzed.
I checked the monitor. It was Clara, banging her fists against the wrought-iron gates, her makeup smeared down her face from crying. Beatrice was standing behind her, looking utterly desperate. Their credit cards had declined at the luxury hotel they tried to check into. They were out of gas, out of money, and completely locked out of their fake empire.
I pressed the intercom button. “What do you want?”
“James! Please!” Clara screamed into the speaker. “My cards are blocked! I can’t even buy a coffee! Open the gate, let us in to get our things!”
“Your things?” I replied smoothly. “You mean the designer bags bought with money stolen from my wife? Those are evidence now. The police will be collecting them shortly.”
“Son, listen to me!” Beatrice pushed Clara aside, trying to sound authoritative. “You are making a massive mistake! We are your family! You can’t leave your mother on the street!”
“You left my wife in a concrete cell,” I said, my voice dead of all emotion. “You let my son eat moldy bread while you fed roast beef to strangers. You aren't my mother. You are a parasite.”
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“I’ll sue you!” Clara shrieked. “I have squatters rights! I’ll call a lawyer!”
I didn't answer. I just reached over and pressed the button that activated the industrial lawn sprinklers near the front gate. A massive jet of cold water blasted Clara and Beatrice, soaking their expensive clothes and ruining their hair. They screamed, scrambling away from the gate and into the street like the rats they were.
