Chapter 4 - The Falling House of Cards
The legal fallout was swifter than any of them expected.
With the money gone,
the Millers couldn't afford their lifestyle.
The apartment they lived in was rented,
and the lease was in Jared’s name.
With his legal fees mounting and his reputation ruined,
the landlord began the eviction process.
Susan called me from a burner phone,
her voice no longer sweet,
but ragged and desperate.
“You’re a monster, Elizabeth,” she hissed.
“Gemma had to drop out of her private college.”
“Ryan lost his job because of that video.”
“We’re losing everything.”
“I hope you’re happy,” I replied.
“I hope you enjoy the ‘Duties of the Mother-in-Law’ when you’re living in a shelter.”
I hung up.
I wasn't being cruel;
I was being just.
They had spent decades treating people like tools.
They had used their tradition as a weapon to enslave women.
And now, the tradition had broken them.
Christopher called me with more news.
“Jared is taking a plea deal,” he said.
“Six months of house arrest and mandatory anger management.”
“And Dwight?” I asked.
“Dwight is being investigated for financial fraud.”
“It turns out he’s been skimming money from his company too.”
“Your case gave them the lead they needed to audit him.”
I felt a sense of grim satisfaction.
The rot in that family went all the way to the bone.
I spent my days reclaiming my identity.
I moved into a small, beautiful studio apartment.
It was filled with plants and books.
There were no laundry baskets.
There were no lists.
I ate what I wanted.
I slept until I was rested.
I went back to work at the architecture firm I had neglected.
My boss welcomed me back with open arms.
“We missed your vision, Elizabeth,” he said.
I realized then that I had been building walls for everyone else,
while my own house was on fire.
No more.
I began designing a project for a women’s shelter.
I wanted to build spaces where people felt safe.
Every line I drew on the blueprint felt like a prayer.
One evening, I saw a news report on the local channel.
A domestic dispute in a suburban neighborhood.
The camera showed the Miller family standing on the sidewalk.
Their furniture was piled up in the grass.
Susan was holding a single suitcase.
Dwight was arguing with a police officer.
Ashley was nowhere to be found.
I heard she had moved two states away to live with her sister.
She was working at a diner,
scrubbing tables for tips.
The irony was not lost on me.
The Millers had tried to make me a servant,
and in the end, they had become the very thing they despised.
They were small,
bitter people,
with nothing left but their pride.
And pride is a very cold blanket when you’re sleeping on the floor.
I turned off the television.
I poured a glass of wine and sat on my balcony.
The city of Baltimore was humming with life.
I thought about the metal bar.
I thought about the sound of the glass shattering.
That was the sound of my soul waking up.
I was no longer afraid of the dark.
I was the one who controlled the light.
May you like
The chapter of the Millers was almost closed.
There was only one thing left to do.
