Chapter 4 - The House of Shadows
I called my husband from the bank and told him his criminal brother was manipulating my mother.
He was absolutely furious and promised to hire a private security firm to guard our son's hospital room.
The police issued a citywide alert for my mother's stolen vehicle and the dangerous man traveling with her.
I spent the next two hours driving aimlessly through the dark streets trying to guess where she would hide.
My mind drifted back to the stories she used to tell me about her childhood home on the edge of the county.
It was a dilapidated farmhouse that had been abandoned and tied up in property disputes for over a decade.
I drove out to the rural property and parked my car a block away to avoid making any noise.
The ancient house was completely surrounded by overgrown weeds and rotting wooden fences.
I saw the silhouette of my husband's stolen SUV parked behind the crumbling barn.
I quietly crept through the tall grass and approached the dusty window of the living room.
A single lantern was glowing inside the dark house and casting eerie shadows against the peeling wallpaper.
I peered through the cracked glass and saw my mother sitting alone at a rotting wooden dining table.
She was staring blankly at the wall and muttering quietly to people who were not actually in the room.
I felt a sharp pang of profound sadness seeing her mind completely unravel in this filthy place.
I slowly turned the rusted brass doorknob and stepped into the freezing hallway.
The wooden floorboards creaked loudly beneath my shoes and echoed through the silent house.
My mother slowly turned her head and looked at me with a terrifyingly lucid expression.
She smiled warmly and told me she was so glad I had finally arrived for the family dinner.
I walked toward her and begged her to give me the stolen money so we could get her medical help.
She frowned and said she had already given the money to her very kind new caregiver.
Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed from the dark wooden staircase directly behind me.
I spun around and saw my husband's brother descending the steps with a sinister smirk on his face.
He was holding a heavy iron fireplace poker in his right hand.
He casually informed me that my mother did not just give him the cash.
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He pulled a folded legal document from his jacket pocket and tossed it onto the dusty table.
It was a legally notarized property deed transferring ownership of my beautiful suburban home directly to him.
