Chapter 4: The Retreat
The atmosphere in the room shifted from entitlement to pure, frantic panic. Brooke, who had been acting like the queen of the castle, suddenly looked terrified. She knew her father, Leonard, was obsessed with his financial standing in their country club circles.
“Is that true, Leonard?” Brooke whispered, her voice trembling.
Leonard didn't answer. He was already on his phone, furiously typing. The arrogance was draining out of them, replaced by the ugly realization that their greed had backfired.
“You did this on purpose,” Patrice hissed at me, her eyes narrowing. “You manipulated him into hiding the assets from us.”
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“I didn't have to manipulate him to do anything,” I said, stepping forward. “I just stayed out of your way while you showed everyone exactly who you are. Mia, get your things from the lawn. Now.”
Watching them scramble was cathartic, but it didn't heal the hurt in Mia’s eyes. As they packed their boxes back into the truck—with Brooke throwing a toddler-level tantrum in the driveway—I realized that the "family" we thought we had was never really a family at all. It was an extraction machine, and we had finally broken the gears.
