Chapter 4 - A Declined Reality
Betsy and Pamela stood on the side of the road,
the gravel biting into their expensive leather sandals.
The heavy oak doors of the villa had been shut and locked with a finality that sounded like a tomb closing.
Behind them,
their mountains of designer suitcases sat like useless monuments to their vanity.
"This is a mistake,"
Betsy muttered,
her voice trembling as the temperature began to drop.
"Lucas will call."
"He’ll realize how much he needs me and he’ll call the manager to let us back in."
Pamela was frantically scrolling through her phone,
trying to find a nearby hotel that was "Instagram-worthy."
"Mom,
everything nearby is booked for the season,"
she whined.
"There’s only a small motel five miles down the road."
"It has...
plastic curtains."
Betsy shuddered at the thought.
"Call a car,
Pamela."
"We’ll go to the city and stay at the Ritz."
Pamela tapped the ride-sharing app,
but her face went pale.
"The app says my payment method is invalid."
"It says the account has been closed by the primary holder."
Betsy snatched her own phone,
her fingers shaking as she tried to call Lucas.
"The number you have reached is no longer in service,"
the automated voice chirped.
He hadn't just blocked her;
he had changed his number.
She tried her credit card again at a local gas station where they had trudged to find a phone.
She wanted to buy a bottle of water and a pack of tissues.
The clerk,
a young man with a bored expression,
shook his head as the machine turned red.
"Declined,
lady."
"Try another one."
She tried every card in her wallet—
the platinum,
the gold,
the black.
Each one was met with the same mechanical rejection.
The cards weren't just frozen;
they were dead.
Naomi had systematically removed every authorized user from the business accounts.
Lucas had done the same for the family trust.
They were standing in the middle of the woods with nothing but the clothes on their backs and thousands of dollars worth of useless leather.
"Mom,
I’m hungry,"
Pamela whimpered,
looking at the rows of cheap snacks on the shelves.
Betsy looked at her daughter,
the realization finally sinking in.
The "peasants" had the money.
The "contaminants" had the power.
And she was just an old woman on a dusty road with a shoe that had just lost its heel.
May you like
The sun disappeared behind the mountains,
leaving them in a darkness that no filter could fix.
