Chapter 6 - The Fall of the House of Coleman
The 72-hour grace period expired at precisely 9:00 AM on Friday.
Michael and Hattie had spent the last three days frantically packing whatever they could carry into cardboard boxes. They had no money for a moving truck, so they had to drag their heavy suitcases down the service elevator, under the watchful, mocking eyes of the building’s staff.
As they stepped out onto the curb of the Heights District, two sheriff's deputies stood waiting. Beside them was Arthur Vance, holding a legal clipboard.
“Where are we supposed to go?” Hattie screamed, her face red, her expensive hair now a matted, unwashed mess. “My house in Sedona! I have a right to go to my house!”
“Actually, Mrs. Coleman, you don't,” Arthur Vance said, stepping forward with a polite, icy smile. “The foreclosure on the Sedona estate was finalized yesterday at 5:00 PM due to non-payment and material misrepresentation on your loan applications. The locks have already been changed. The property is now listed for public auction.”
Hattie gasped, clutching her chest. “My family home! You can't do this! We are a traditional family! We have heritage!”
“Your heritage is built on debt and deceit, ma’am,” Arthur replied. “And as for your personal belongings inside this apartment, only the items purchased with your own documented funds may be removed. The furniture, the artwork, and the electronics were all purchased by Penelope. Touch them, and you will be charged with grand theft.”
Michael looked like a broken man. He stood on the sidewalk, surrounded by a few cheap suitcases and cardboard boxes. His tailored suits were wrinkled, his face pale and sunken.
“Where is Penelope?” Michael begged, looking at Arthur. “Please, let me talk to her. Just five minutes. I can explain. It was all a misunderstanding. I was stressed about work... I didn't mean to hit her.”
“Mr. Coleman, any further contact with my client, direct or indirect, will result in your immediate arrest for violating the temporary restraining order that was approved by the court this morning,” Arthur said, handing him a blue folder. “And here are your divorce papers. My client is requesting a dissolution of marriage with zero alimony, and she is seeking full restitution for the joint account funds you illegally transferred to your mother.”
Just then, a sleek black town car pulled up to the curb. The tinted window rolled down halfway.
Through the glass, Michael and Hattie saw Penelope. She was wearing a stunning emerald green silk dress, her eyes protected by designer sunglasses. Beside her sat Donna, looking peaceful and beautiful, holding a small box of fresh pastries.
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Penelope didn’t say a word. She didn't need to. She simply looked at them—two broke, homeless schemers standing on a dusty Phoenix sidewalk—and rolled up the window.
The town car pulled away, leaving them in a cloud of exhaust.
