Chapter 8 - The Falling Cards
With Drago's retreat, the house of cards my parents had built collapsed with terrifying speed.
The next morning, the blizzard had fully cleared, leaving behind a brilliant, blindingly blue sky. The roads were plowed, and the wheels of justice began to turn with an administrative efficiency that was beautiful to watch.
Victoria and Detective Torres arrived at the estate with a team of forensic accountants and state prosecutors.
"We’ve uncovered the entire network, Ryan," Victoria said, spreading a series of financial flowcharts across the dining room table—the same table that had been covered with their fraudulent custody papers just days ago. "Your mother, Eleanor, wasn't just a passive bystander. She was the coordinator. She was the one who contacted Dr. Aris and paid him fifty thousand dollars to write the fraudulent psychiatric report on Emily."
"And Julian?" I asked, pouring a cup of coffee.
"Julian was the one who physically forged your signature on the deed and the power of attorney extensions," Victoria said. "He’s been practicing your signature for months. We found a notebook in his apartment filled with tracing paper. He’s facing fifteen years for forgery, grand larceny, and identity theft, in addition to the child endangerment charges."
"Where are they now?"
"They’re back in custody," Detective Torres said, stepping into the room. "The bail was revoked after Drago’s associates pulled their financial backing. Your father tried to flee the state this morning, but we picked him up at a private airfield in New Jersey. He had a suitcase filled with fifty thousand dollars in cash and a fake passport."
"Let him rot," I said. "And Eleanor?"
"She’s in the women’s correctional facility," Torres said. "She’s been crying for her lawyers, but none of them are answering her calls. Without your money to pay their retainers, they’ve all abandoned her."
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I looked out the window at the snow-covered lawn. The sun was warm, beginning to melt the heavy drifts of ice. The nightmare was finally ending.
"I want the maximum penalty, Victoria," I said, my voice quiet but unyielding. "No plea deals. No reduced sentences. I want them to spend the rest of their lives behind bars. They tried to kill my family. They deserve nothing less."
