Chapter 2 - The House of Cards
The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Marcus read the letters once, then twice, his eyes darting frantically across the heavy cardstock.
"This is a mistake," Marcus stammered, his voice rising in panic. "My dad doesn't have this kind of legal muscle. He’s a retired actuary on a fixed income! He doesn’t have the money to hire Eleanor Vance!"
"Look at the papers, Marcus!" Vanessa shrieked, her composed high-society facade shattering completely. "He was the guarantor on the house! He paid the down payment on the boat! He's calling in the debts! Where did he get this kind of money?"
Marcus slumped against the granite island, the reality crashing down on him. For years, he had assumed his father was just scraping by. He had treated his father's frugality as an embarrassment, a sign of failure. But the numbers staring back at him were undeniable. Arthur hadn't been living in their spare room because he needed them. He had been there because he wanted to be near his son.
And Marcus had let Vanessa treat him like the hired help.
"Call him," Vanessa demanded, her voice shrill. "Call him right now. Tell him to cancel this. Tell him it’s a misunderstanding."
Marcus pulled out his phone, his hands shaking. He dialed his father's number. It went straight to voicemail. A cold, automated voice informed him that the number was no longer in service.
"He changed his number," Marcus whispered, the color draining from his face.
"Well, find him!" Vanessa slammed her hand on the counter. "If we don't fix this by Friday, my credit cards are going to bounce at the country club gala. Do you know how humiliating that will be?"
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Marcus looked at his wife, truly seeing her for the first time in years. The house was on the verge of collapse, they were drowning in debt, and her primary concern was her reputation at a cocktail party.
"I'll find him," Marcus said quietly. "But Vanessa... I don't think he's coming back."
