Chapter 6 - The Trap is Set
For the next three weeks, I played the part of the defeated, defensive defendant. I let Prudence’s lawyer drag out the negotiations. I let the local newspapers write articles about the "Tragedy of the Vance Family Mansion."
Gertrude even did a televised interview with a local lifestyle channel, standing outside a modest rented apartment, wiping away fake tears. "We gave him everything," she sobbed to the reporter. "And he cast us out like dogs for the sake of a girl who never appreciated our status."
Meanwhile, behind the gates of the mansion, life was returning to what it should have been.
Jamie was gaining weight. His skin had lost that ghostly grey hue, replaced by the rosy pink of a healthy child. I hired a private tutor to help him catch up on his development, and for the first time in his life, he played on the manicured lawns without looking at the back door in terror.
Sarah and I spent our evenings on the back patio, the very place where I had heard her crying weeks ago. We replaced the old plastic stools with comfortable outdoor sofas. We drank wine, watched the sunset over Bayside Heights, and talked about the future.
"Do you want to sell this place, Sarah?" I asked her one evening, pulling her close. "I know it holds terrible memories."
She looked at the massive glass windows of the house, then down at Jamie playing with his new golden retriever puppy on the grass.
May you like
"No," she said fiercely. "You bled for this house, Michael. Every brick belongs to your sacrifice. If we leave, they win. We stay, and we fill it with love until the bad memories are choked out."
"Then we stay," I murmured. "And tomorrow, we end the war."
